Melting Slowly
by Googie
Summary: SEQUEL TO BLIZZARD! AU. When you want to move slowly in a new relationship, how slow is slow, and how slow is actually TOO slow? Fluff, romance, humor. Updated 2/3/2015.
1. Chapter 1

_**Welcome to Chapter 1!**_

_**This story is the sequel to 'Blizzard'. If you havent' read 'Blizzard', you may want to go back to my profile and read that fic first; I'm sure this one will make more sense then. If you don't want to read that one, or want a little recap, here it is:**_

_**Timeframe is from mid-season 3, and we're assuming that she'd broken up with Josh already. Obviously, there was still a Montgomery at this point. Obviously, we're going AU here. Alexis has asked Beckett for help with her French, and Beckett goes with the family to take refuge from a Blizzard at their house in the Hamptons. While there, Beckett and Castle stumble into a kiss. Kate tries to resist, but she finds resisting increasingly difficult as they spend more time together. Alexis leaves and goes to an impromptu sleepover at her friend's house, and Martha, after witnessing them getting closer, strategically fakes illness to have an excuse to stay out of their way. During the blizzard, Kate trips and badly sprains her ankle, and has to rely on Castle to help her since she now can't move very easily. He helps her and takes care of her, but she feels very uncomfortable accepting his help even though she needs it. A few sweet moments and makeout sessions occur. Eventually, after the blizzard, he takes her to the ER and she's told that it may take 4 weeks for her ankle to heal, which she's not happy about. When they return to New York, she finds that the elevator in her building isn't working, and since she can't handle the stairs on crutches, she agrees to stay with the Castles until she's more mobile. She freaks about their new relationship and tries to play it off as a vacation thing, but he pushes and won't let run away from it. Then she agrees to go on a date with him. Later she realizes that she might be developing some really deep feelings for him. She admits to him that she's scared she's going to mess something up, and that they'll lose the friendship and partnership that they have. He convinces her to take a chance, that it'll be worth it and that they can make it work. He promises to go slowly and not push, and she promises to try. **_

_**Now, that synopsis was really dry, so I think you really should go read Blizzard if you haven't yet. A lot more happened in that story, and there are a lot of Casketty moments so if you don't read that, you'll be missing all of those (and that would be a real shame!).**_

_**We pick up this story soon after Blizzard leaves off.**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters. **_

* * *

><p>Sprained ankles were not fun. Kate was finding that out. There was the pain of the ankle itself, but then there was all of the other collateral damage to her life, to her daily routines that went along with it. Having only one lower limb when you were used to having two was a harder thing to get accustomed to than she'd ever thought. So not only did she have to get used to her new limited mobility-which if the original doctor from the ER could be believed, would last for several weeks-but she had to get used to her limited mobility while <em>living with the Castles <em> until the elevator in her building was fixed. It almost sounded like a bad reality TV show...'_Living with the Castles'._ Granted, Rick had been really wonderful since she'd sprained her ankle during the blizzard in the Hamptons, but she just really hated to have to rely on him. And it made it worse when he was just so damn...eager...to help her. She could probably sit on his couch and demand bon bons and he'd happily bring them to her. And now that they'd gotten closer and had crossed the line into being tentative romantic partners and she'd actually agreed to _date_ the man...that just added a new wrinkle into her life. Of course, when he was kissing her, she didn't think of it much like a wrinkle at all. When he was kissing her, she found that she really didn't think of much of anything except for kissing him back.

True to his word, Castle had gotten her an appointment with a prominent orthopedic surgeon on Monday morning. He told her he 'knew a guy', and he wasn't kidding. She was somewhat skeptical of using his connections to 'jump the line', so to speak, but she was torn because the doctor was supposed to be very good, and she wanted her ankle _fixed_ already. Well, not exactly. She wanted it healed, hopefully without the need for any "'fixing' that required a surgical intervention. She just wanted to be normal again.

For such a sought-after doctor, she didn't expect the man she got. And she didn't expect the appointment she got. She'd already predicted that the man would most likely barely look at her foot, prescribe some physical therapy and be on is way in 2.5 seconds flat. So she was unprepared when the man came in the room with a big grin for Castle and a heartfelt-sounding greeting, a firm handshake and smile for her.

He unwrapped her ankle and poked at it gently, asking her what hurt. He even asked her to take the shoe and sock off her other foot so he could compare them. He asked her to move the injured limb, and she hesitantly moved the ankle from side to side and straightened her foot. There was some mild pain and a lot of stiffness, but she was pleasantly surprised to feel that she could move it a small amount now without pain, whereas a few days ago she couldn't without a _lot_ of pain and stiffness. She realized then that she hadn't even tried to move it lately, and the words that the Emergency Room doctor had spoken to her popped back into her mind...she _was_ unconsciously babying it.

The doctor ordered an MRI, just to be on the safe side and so he could know exactly what he was dealing with. But after a lot of crinkled-brow looks from the doctor, and more poking and prodding and manipulating of her ankle, she couldn't stand it any longer and asked, "So do you think I'll need surgery?" She was dismayed to find that she was almost holding her breath after asking the question.

"Well...Detective, is it?" Kate nodded. "Well, Detective, I'd say that your detecting is going to be done from a chair for at least the next several weeks." She felt some air whoosh out of her lungs as the orthopedist confirmed what the ER doctor had already told her. "You do have a pretty good sprain, grade 2 or grade 3. I should be able to tell from the MRI exactly which it is. But really, the treatment is pretty much the same. And in answer to your question, we rarely do surgery on ankle injuries. But it does require a commitment from you. Two things: one, you have to give yourself time to heal, and not overdo it." She kept her face fixed on the doctor, but she could hear Castle almost snort as she figured he was trying to resist the urge to make some kind of Castle-like comment. Without missing a beat and with her eyes never wavering from the doctor's, she said, "Zip it, Castle." The doctor shot a quick glance over at his friend, and she could see the sides of his mouth twitching upward in the beginnings of a smile. But after that look, he met her eyes again and carried on with his second recommendation. "And two, you'll need to start some physical therapy soon. Regularly, but under the guidance of a trained therapist. No going off on your own and pushing it before your therapist gives you the okay. Because if you push it before it's ready, you could end up damaging it more, and then yes, you could be talking about surgery in that case..."

Kate nodded, and then a thought came to her. "What about driving? When will I be able to do that safely? The ER doctor that I saw on Saturday said that it may be several weeks." The tone of her voice indicated that she found that idea more than distasteful.

"I'd say he's basically right, give or take. The problem is that sprains are tricky. You just have to let them tell you how they are, and do the rehab exercises, but don't overdo it. If something hurts beyond normal stiffness, then it's too much. You'll get to know the difference. And about the driving, I'm going to give you a boot that you can wear in a few days, when you feel comfortable to bear full weight and walk. It'll keep the ankle immobile when you're not doing your exercises, but it'll protect it so you can try walking. That way you'll at least get some mobility back. But it's too big and clunky for you to drive a car safely wearing it."

Damn. That was _so_ not what she wanted to hear. "Are you sure you don't have any magic ligament healing pills that you can give me?"

The doctor smiled at her. "Nope, clean out of those. Sorry," he told her with a smile.

Castle interrupted and addressed the doctor. "So, Paul, is there anything that you can recommend to speed this recovery along? Detective Beckett is very...active...in her _job_," he clarified hastily, "and obviously is not used to physical limitations like this. So anything we...uh, she...can do to help her get better faster, we'll do. Uh, she'll do," he clarified again. He didn't look at her, but he could feel Beckett giving him a little glare from where she sat on the exam table, although he wasn't sure if it was for him asking the question or for his inadvertent use of the 'we' pronoun so much.

As the doctor rewrapped her foot, he told them, "Although it was most important in the first forty-eight hours or so, ice and elevation are still your friends until that swelling is totally gone. But really, other than taking it easy and letting it heal, and then doing the prescribed PT...there really isn't much more. It just takes time. That's why a lot of times, people say that a sprain is far worse than a break."

"I can see that," Kate said lowly, to no one in particular.

Rick stood up and shook the doctor's hand. "Thanks, Paul. It was nice of you to fit us in on such short notice."

"No problem. How's the new book coming? Need any more insight?"

"Nah. I haven't broken anyone's fictional bones lately. But when I do, I'll know who to call."

"Sounds good. But just make sure to make it a little more believable next time, okay? I mean, running eight weeks after a compound fracture? Come on!"

"Hey! You did say it was possible..."

"In about one percent of cases, and only with about five other conditions being met."

"But he had to escape from the Columbian Drug Lords!" Rick protested. "He couldn't let a little thing like recovery from a compound fracture hold him back."

Kate was listening to their exchange with an interested ear. It was much more entertaining than her ankle, and far less depressing anyway. And as they talked more, her memory clicked into place and she remembered the specific Derek Storm novel that had the compound fracture. Wow. Funny to think that the man who'd just looked at her ankle had been the expert consultant for that section.

Now the doctor was reaching out a hand to her, and she gave him a polite smile in return. "It was nice to meet you, Detective. I only wish it had been under better circumstances. Stop at the desk on the way out and they can schedule your MRI and also set you up with some physical therapy in a couple of days. Now don't overdo it, okay?"

"I'll do my best, doctor."

"Oh, it's Paul. Any friend of Rick's is a friend of mine."

"Well, Paul...thank you."

"My pleasure. Take care, both of you." And with that, he was out the door, leaving Kate and Rick sitting there looking at each other. Well, Castle started out standing, but after the doctor left, he came over and sat down next to her on the exam table.

After the better part of a minute, she told him, "He's...not what I expected."

"He's a good guy. I've known him for a while. Are you mad at him?"

She looked at him like he had two heads. "Mad at him? Castle, why in the world would I be mad at him?"

"Because he told you some things that I know for a fact that you didn't want to hear, and the last time that happened-when I took you to the ER after the blizzard-you looked like you were trying to do a crutch-hopping marathon in my vacation house, and _then_ you tried to climb on my library ladder like it was a jungle gym!"

She just stared at him, glared at him with pursed lips.

"Come on, Beckett. You were sca-RY," he emphasized.

"Gee, thanks Castle," she replied sarcastically. "Very complimentary of you, you know."

"Come on! You were! I was afraid you were going to sprain or break something else." His voice lowered then and took on a more serious tone as the smile left his face. "It was bad enough seeing you in the amount of pain that you were already in. I just didn't want anything else to happen to you."

She was surprised by his abrupt change in demeanor, all joking one minute and serious and concerned the next. She knew how to deal with joking Castle a lot better than serious and concerned Castle. "I...uh..." she stammered, not really knowing how to continue, but still knowing that she needed to say something. "Castle, I told you before that it was my own stupid fault for getting hurt. _I'm_ sorry that you were worried about me. I shouldn't have done what I did. And it's not an excuse, but you know I just don't deal with limitations very well."

"You?" he asked innocently, and obviously she knew that it was his turn for a little sarcasm. But then once again, he got serious. "Just follow orders so you can get better, okay?" he said almost pleadingly.

"I'll try," she agreed.

The smile lit his face. "Good. That's all I can ask." He looked thoughtful for a moment and then, with a smile and a waggle of his eyebrows, he said, "Well, there is one other thing I can ask."

She looked at him, trying to anticipate the many possiblities of what off-beat (or off-color) request might come out of his mouth next. "I know I may regret this, but what is it?"

"Will you go to lunch with me?"

She looked at him and blinked. Lunch? That was it? "Seriously?" she asked.

"Seriously." He smiled and shrugged.

She held up her foot and pointed to it, and then the crutches. They both knew that moving around was now considerably slower for her with the crutches. "Seriously?" she asked again.

"Beckett..._seriously_."

"I don't know...maybe we should just go back to the loft. I don't know if I'm up to having you schlep me around New York City looking for a place to eat that doesn't require a lot of walking."

He smiled. "Don't worry about that. I have just the place. Very minimal walking involved. Let me make a call."

"Let me guess...you know a guy? Like the doctor?"

"Of course I know a guy. But trust me, Nico is nothing like Paul. So...?" he prompted.

"Sure, why not. I have to eat, and as long as it doesn't involve me hobbling all over the city on these things-if you're sure about that-I guess that'll be fine." As she got off the table and reached for her crutches, she added under her breath, "It's not like I can do anything else right now."

"Beckett." Castle's voice was stern for him, and it made her look up at him. "Are we feeling a little pouty again?"

"Pouty?"

"Yes, pouty. You're making comments under your breath. Comments which, of course, my excellent hearing can still pick up. Comments regarding your temporarily limited mobility. Or would you prefer it if I changed the adjective from 'pouty' to 'whiny'?"

"Whiny, Castle?" she asked while giving him a scary glare. "No. And no to pouty also. I don't whine. And I wasn't pouting. I was merely stating the facts of the situation."

"No, you were pouting. Under your breath. Or whining. Or whatever you call it, because the facts are that you can still do plenty, but you just have to do it from a desk." Then he gave her a little glare back. "And you know, Kate? I'm really getting tired of having to say the same thing over and over and over again. If you don't cut this out, I'm going to march you down the hall and take you to an audiologist to have your hearing tested."

Ignoring the highly obvious comment that she couldn't march, she rolled her eyes at him and then gave him another warning glare. "Castle..."

He cut her off by turning toward her and putting his hands on her shoulders, rubbing her collarbone lightly with his thumbs. "It bites, Kate, I know that. I know you're frustrated and you wanted Paul to say something different. But you're going to have to deal with it. Don't let it get the better of you. And I know that if there's anyone who can put her mind to it and make lemonade, it's you."

She continued to glare at him. Once again, he was right. It just burned a little bit to have the first diagnosis confirmed by a second physician. She wasn't looking forward to her forced limitations, that was for sure. But he was right. And pouting or whining or whatever he called it was _not_ her style. So she forced a bit of a smile on her face and said, "Lemonade, Castle?"

He grinned back at her. "Well, yeah. 'When life gives you lemons...', you know..."

"Make lemonade," she finished. "God, that just sounds so incredibly perky. Annoyingly perky."

"Well, you've always said that I annoy you. So why would I want to stop now?" The he leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on the lips, enjoying the fact that he could do that now. And he enjoyed it even more when he realized that she responded with a fast little pucker of her own. But, having vowed not to push, he pulled back after the quick kiss and asked, "So are you ready to head out to the desk? While you make your arrangements for physical theray, I'll make the arrangements for lunch. Deal?"

He had a way of simplifying things, didn't he? And right now, she needed that simplification. One step at a time, right? So she looked up at him and gave a simple answer. "Deal."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"I have to hand it to you, Rick. This is really nice," Kate told him as she broke off a piece of bread and popped it into her mouth. After she swallowed it, she asked, "So how did you find this place anyway?"

"Would you believe that it was preschool?"

"Preschool? What, you and Nico used to do the playgroup scene together while you were part of the diaper brigade? You go back that far?"

He gave her a withering look. "Not me, Alexis. And Bella, his youngest daughter. They got to be friends, and Nico and I got to talking about the restaurant once. Came in to try it out...Alexis always loved italian food when she was little. Still does, in fact." He took a sip of water and then continued. "He uses this room for private parties sometimes, but most of the time it's empty unless you ask for it." They were sitting in a private room at the back of the restaurant. The back of the restaurant opened onto an alley, and there were a couple of parking spaces there. Rick simply called ahead to make sure a space was open, and then he and Kate had a table reserved for them that was only steps from that back door. When describing it to her, he'd called it a little gem, and it was perfect for when he wanted a good meal out, but didn't want to deal with the public, the press, or schmoozing. And it was perfect for her with the crutches; only two steps up into the restaurant from that back door and then a few more steps to their table.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a waiter bringing two plates of steaming food and the heavenly aromas that were coming from those plates were enough to make her stomach growl appreciatively. But she was confused, because they'd only been there for a few minutes, and though the waiter had brought them the bread and a carafe of water, they hadn't even placed their order yet.

Before she could voice her thoughts, Rick said simply, "I ordered over the phone when I called for the table. I can almost guarantee you'll like it, but if not, you can order something else and I'll have them box this up for Alexis."

He ordered for her? He ordered her lunch for her? And she hadn't even looked to see what was on the menu? Not to mention the fact that he hadn't even been _given_ a menu because he ordered for her already? She looked at him, and then looked down at the food, which she had to admit really _did_ look appetizing. But she didn't say anything as she waged her own internal battle of whether she should just shut up and eat or say something to him about trying to take over, purely on principle. Sure, he knew her tastes in food. Sure, they often ordered the same or similar entrees if they went somewhere other than Remy's. But even though she might have a bum ankle, she might be stuck at her desk at work for a month, and she might not be able to drive, damn it, she could still read a menu and pick out her own food! She didn't need him to do that too!

"You really ordered my food for me." The words were more of a statement than a question. And hearing them as a statement gave them a decidely more ominous tone.

He must have sensed something was wrong with the situation, or at least with her perception of the situation, because he continued talking, explaining, "I just thought it would be better to have things ready when we got here," he started. He tried to inject some nonchalance into the words, but she heard something else in his tone too, something almost...apologetic, and a little uncomfortable. "I kind of...uh...thought you'd just like to eat quickly and go home...uh...back to the loft and not linger over lunch. So it seemed like I should try to make it as quick as possible. But really," he offered again, "if you don't like it, you can order whatever you want." He lifted his hands, palms outward, in a surrender type of motion. "Totally up to you. We could even sit here all afternoon if you want to and we could order a lot of different things..." he trailed off, looking definitely uncomfortable now, after he continued to explain and she still didn't say anything.

But she let herself listen to his reasoning, and his reasoning did make a bit of sense. A bit, and only because she was used to his particular brand of logic, even though she may not agree with it all the time. And she supposed that his intentions were noble...to try to make things easier for her. But it still annoyed her; not so much that he'd ordered, but that she hadn't had a choice in the matter. Through the aromas wafting up at her and during his fumbling but sincere explanation, she realized that a lot of her initial burst of anger had dissipated. But still, she couldn't let him off scot-free, could she?

"So, is this you 'not pushing' and letting me do things for myself? I mean, geez, Castle...I can order my own food, you know. It doesn't require any ankle muscles at all," she said sarcastically.

He still looked a little worried, but he gave her a somewhat exasperated look. "I didn't push," he defended. "I just tried to make something easier for you. And it's only lunch," he said somewhat dejectedly. "So do you want to order something else? Because that's really okay, you know."

She made a show of taking another look at the plate of food in front of her. Then she picked up her fork and took a small bite. When her tastebuds registered what she was tasting, it was all she could do to not moan out loud at how good it tasted. But she schooled her features so hopefully, they didn't give too much away, and she just looked at him and said, "This will be fine, Castle." Then, if the look on his face was any indication, he was surprised when she leaned toward him with narrowed eyes and pointed her fork at him. "But if you think this is how things are going to go now, you, sir, are sorely mistaken. Remember that talk we had about you doing things for me? Or more specifically, you _not_ doing things for me? About you letting me _ask_ if I needed help?"

"Hey," he interrupted, "it was only lunch. And I _said_ you could order something else if you wanted to, so that totally negates me ordering for you in the first place. And I didn't order _for you_, anyway. I just ordered two meals, things that I know you and I both like. So we could even switch if that'll make you feel better. And if you recall, yesterday I let you climb the stairs to your apartment totally by yourself. That was way bigger than this, if you ask me. So, uh, Beckett? Would you just shut up and eat? I don't want Nico to think that my new girlfriend doesn't like his specialty."

Her stomach gave an internal flip when she heard him refer to her as his girlfriend so easily. How could he do that so casually, when she was still getting used to the idea? It was only the night before when they'd agreed to try 'dating'. Now he jumps to calling her his girlfriend like it was the most natural thing in the world. And then telling her to shut up and eat! "Castle..." she started to protest.

"Beckett," he interrupted, "just eat. You know it's good. Or you can have mine if you want...I don't care. I wasn't trying to step on your toes, or take over, or anything like that. I just wanted to make things easier and quicker so you could get back to the loft sooner. And you have to remember that I've been coming here for years, so I know just about everything on the menu and I know what dishes are the best. So don't worry about it, okay?"

She knew she would feel petty if she argued with him any more about the lunches. So she let that slide as she took another bite of food. God, it really was good! "Fine, Castle. You win. As long as you promise that you're not going to try to charm me into depending on you even more than I have to right now. We've already had this talk, right?"

"You think I'm charming?" he asked with a grin. Her only response was to roll her eyes at him. But then he got serious and said, "Honestly, Kate, I didn't even think twice about it. I've ordered for you before. It's not some nefarious plot to take all of your autonomy. And I wouldn't want to do that anyway because you'd be really boring then. And I much prefer my Kate, the one that can keep me on my toes."

First 'girlfriend', and then 'his' Kate? Boy, he was just diving into the deep end of this dating thing, wasn't he? She took a breath and looked at him. "And 'girlfriend'?" she asked him with a raised eyebrow.

He grinned at her. "Yeah. Gotta start trying that out more now, right? And I kind of like the sound of that, at least as it refers to you. In relation to me. Or to me, about you. Oh, you know what I mean." He took a quick bite of his entree, and then asked her, "So since you went back to that little moniker from a while ago, can I correctly assume that you're not going to protest anymore about me ordering lunch for you? That you're just going to eat now?"

"Yes, Castle. I'll eat. But in return, can you promise to shut up and not gloat for a while?"

He looked at her quizzically. "How long?"

"Castle!" she warned.

"Right. Eat. Shut up. Got it." But he still looked over at her and gave her a disarming grin right before he took a large bite of his pasta. "When my _girlfriend_ asks me so nicely, how could I refuse?"

She just shook her head as she looked down at her own dish of pasta. The man just never quit, did he?

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Well, yes, he did quit, she found out that afternoon.

The rest of the afternoon progressed rather uneventfully. They got back to the loft and after hanging up their coats and stowing the leftovers in the refrigerator, Rick had told her that he was going to go work in his office for a bit. He cheerily told her to help herself to anything she wanted, and to let him know if she needed anything, but then he was gone. In fact, he escaped to his office so fast that she just stood there, staring after him, until she was staring at nothing except for his closed office door.

She made her way over to the couch and sat down. What had just happened? She'd fully expected him to hover, especially now, with her still being hurt. He always hovered. She thought she'd have to entertain him, which would basically amount to him trying to entertain her to make himself feel useful and like he was being a good host. But she'd never expected him to just...leave. But he'd escaped into his office-albeit cheerily-so fast that she couldn't even formulate a response besides a quick, "Okay...sure," comment.

But what was she complaining about, anyway? Wasn't this what she wanted? Hadn't she been telling him not to push, not to do everything for her? Wasn't leaving her alone exactly the type of thing that she was telling herself that she wished he would do?

So why did she feel like she'd just been ditched?

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Rick knew he would have his work cut out for him, keeping his distance and not pushing, not trying to do things for her. He just genuinely wanted to help her, make things easier for her in any way that he could. He really hadn't meant anything by ordering their meals when he called to reserve the table, but she'd certainly taken it badly. Now, with hindsight being 20/20, he could see how not letting her do even a small thing like ordering her own meal could be perceived badly, especially now that she was back in New York and was now directly facing all of the things that she could NOT do. Heck, she couldn't even live in her own apartment! He supposed the meal was just one more thing to pile onto her list. He didn't mean it that way at all, and he hoped he conveyed that. She seemed to let it go eventually, and that was good, but he hoped she wasn't still thinking about it.

But to hedge his bets and make sure that he didn't do any more damage, he went against every instinct that he had and as soon as they'd gotten back to the loft, he'd let her be. He put some distance between them. He'd gone into his office to 'do some work', as he told her, and he'd forced himself to stay in there. He wasn't going to hover, he wasn't going to ask her if she needed anything, and he certainly wasn't going to do anything for her. At least right now. Even if he wanted to do all of those three things more than anything right now. He just wanted to take care of her and be with her, but the independent Kate Beckett didn't need that right now. But she was probably still smarting from the lunch thing, as unintentional as it was on his part, and he didn't want to even give the tiniest glimmer of doing anything that would upset her or put her on edge any more. And he figured the best way to do that was to stay away for a while...give her some space. Let her get used to things here. That was reasonable, right? So he sat in his office and typed a paragraph for the new Nikki Heat novel. Then he erased it and typed something else. Then he erased that and started to type more, until he realized that he wasn't going to do any actual writing today. Well, he wasn't going to do any actual writing that he'd ever want anyone to read. So he opened another document and decided to work on the more in-depth outline for one of his upcoming chapters. Even if he couldn't write, maybe he could at least work through some plot ideas.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Three hours. Three long hours, and barely a peep from him. She'd looked at his coffee table books. She'd stretched out on his sofa and tried to take a nap. When the nap didn't work, she'd turned on the television, softly, and found that Temptation Lane wasn't even on...it was preempted by a golf match. She turned the television off and with a huff, picked up one of the other coffee table books.

He'd come out once, one hour and forty three minutes after he'd gone into his office, ostensibly to get a glass of water. He greeted her, and they had a very brief, superficial conversation about the outline for a chapter. He was cheery, like he was before he went into his office...one hour and forty three minutes before. And then, once again, he was back in his office with the door closed and she was left sitting there on the couch with only the coffee table books for company.

And he didn't even offer her a glass of water!

This was stupid. Purely on principle, she got up and went to the kitchen to get her own damn glass of water. After drinking it down, she thought enough was enough. _He_ was obviously content to be holed up in his office. Well, she wasn't content to be out here any longer. Alone.

So she grabbed her phone and the key to the loft that he'd given her earlier. And she hobbled over to the door and let herself out of the loft, letting the door close silently behind her.

* * *

><p><em><strong>There it is...hope you enjoyed it.<strong>_

_**If anyone is wondering, I do have plans with where I'll be taking this story and some of the twists and turns I'll be taking on the way. That's not to say that I won't get more ideas along the way, but I have a much better idea of where this will be heading than I ever did with 'The Plan' or with 'Blizzard'.**_

_**I hope I portrayed Kate's frustration in at least a reasonably realistic way. She's so used to Castle hovering that she tells him not to, but then when he listens to her, she's annoyed because she misses him (although she won't admit it). So it's that, and their inherent communication issues, like it was like in 'The Dead Pool' with the introduction of Alex Conrad and the 'Fine...Fine...It's **_**so**_** not fine' conversation (only that was Castle, but same idea). **_

_**So with the start of any new fanfic that I know is going to be many chapters, I'd REALLY appreciate your feedback as to whether you like it or not. Let me know what you think!**_

_**(And for 'Plan' fans, I posted the first epilogue to that story a few days ago, so go read that if you haven't already.)**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Wow! Tons of story alerts for this already, just after the first chapter! My inbox was exploding with emails! I'm glad you liked it enough so far and want to read more. Thank you to all of the wonderful people who took the time to leave me a review. I don't think I've ever had that many long and eloquently worded reviews for one chapter. They weren't all 100% rah-rah positive, but they were constructive and explained viewpoints well, and that's what makes me be try to improve. So again, thank you.**_

_**One note: I know some of you are frustrated with 'my' Beckett right now. Frankly, I am too. And that's why I put the comments in the first chapter about Castle saying she was pouting and/or whining. Because she is. She's typically very strong and capable, so that when she can't do something, she gets mad and annoyed, maybe more than the average person. Like when Castle started shadowing her, or more recently with Captain Gates. Or with Natalie Rhodes after Natalie started to annoy her, when she made some of her snarky comments ('I'd like to see that' in response to Natalie being quiet and doing nothing.) So now, in this story, Kate has a kink in her level of mobility, which is big FOR HER, and she's reminded about it constantly. Until she saw Doctor Paul, she'd been subconsciously hoping for a quick fix. So while it's not a permanent impairment, it's big for her and she can't see past that right now, and now she has to face the fact that there will be no quick fix and she'll have to be patient. And we all know that sometimes the anticipation of something that we perceive as negative actually ends up being not nearly as bad as we think it will be. Also, she's dealing with agreeing to date Castle, and there potentially being so much more potential there for a lasting relationship than she'd ever thought there would be. And she's forced to live with Castle. She's a little stressed with everything going on and is acting badly. So that's where I'm coming from.**_

_**That said, I try to wrap this up a bit in this chapter. I hope you like it; I went back and forth with it for a while and it kind of grew on me eventually. But I'm not going to sit on this and second-guess myself forever, so I just posted it and you all can be the judges.**_

_**Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine; they belong to their esteemed creators.**_

* * *

><p>When Rick dared, he saved his work-the small amount that he'd managed to do, that is-and shut his laptop. It was getting close enough to dinner time and he'd been giving Beckett her space for the majority of the afternoon because of her obvious need for it, and because, well, he thought she was still kind of mad at him for the lunch thing. He was actually going stir crazy in his office, away from her. She was <em>living<em> with him now, for goodness sakes, and he wasn't even _with_ her! In his mind, that was pretty messed up. He wondered if he needed to check himself into Belleview for a psych eval.

He plastered a bored look on his face; he didn't want to seem too eager when he came out of his office. He opened the door and walked into the living room to find...no Beckett. Huh, he thought. Where was she? He'd expected her to be in the living room. He looked over to the kitchen to see if she was there. Nope, no Beckett. When he didn't see her in the living room or the kitchen, his eyes traveled toward the stairs to the second floor. She wouldn't. Would she? Would she try to prove that she could, indeed, climb the stairs so she didn't have to stay in his room? Then he shook his head...of course she would.

He headed up to the second floor and called out her name as he went up the stairs. "Beckett...oh, Beckett! Come out, come out wherever you are!" And then he sprung in front of the open doorway to the guest room, fully expecting to see her sitting on the bed and glaring at him like he was a lunatic. But he was shocked to find...no Beckett.

He was starting to get a funny feeling in his chest. He knew she couldn't go far, and while his loft was spacious, there just weren't that many places that she could be. Where was she?

He quickly walked down the hall and peered through all of the other doors, even the ones to his mother's and daughter's rooms, but they were all dark and deserted. Feeling a greater sense of urgency with each empty room that he passed, he finally turned around and raced back down the stairs. He knew she wasn't in his bedroom, her temporary bedroom, because she would have had to go through his office to get to it, and he'd been in there the whole time. The only other place was the bathroom, and without even getting close, he could see that the light was off and the bathroom, too, was deserted.

Then a thought came to him and he felt a small flicker of relief. Of course! He'd just call her. That was easy. So he took out his phone and hit her speed dial, getting ready to greet her in a truly Castle-esque fashion. But the phone just rang and rang and went to her voicemail after several rings, leaving him with a sense of foreboding. He left a message asking her where she was, and then collapsed on the couch, wondering what in the world to do now. The city was still a mess because of all of the melting snow, and it was pretty apparent now that she was out there somewhere. But why? She had the day off. She didn't need to go anywhere. His eyes roamed the apartment randomly and then got big as they landed on one specific thing by his front door: Kate's coat hanging on his coat tree. She was out there, in a New York winter, _without her coat_? What had happened? Why hadn't she said something to him. And _why in the world_ did he stay holed up in his office all afternoon?

And he sat there with his elbows on his knees and agitatedly ran his hands through his hair as the funny feeling in his chest, that knot of worry, grew. God, where was she?

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Hours later, Kate was sitting on a stool in the doorman's little alcove in the street-level lobby of Castle's building, shooting the breeze with Rafael, the doorman on duty, who was a young man with jet black hair, twinkling eyes and an extremely polite, respectful attitude. With the kind that Kate dealt with on a regular basis, she found she really enjoyed talking to him. But actually at that point, he wasn't on duty anymore; his shift had ended half an hour before, but he was still sitting there talking to Kate because, quite simply, she had him captivated. He didn't have anything pressing to do at home, and talking with the lovely woman was certainly not a chore. When Rafi was done with his shift, a burly man named Junior had shown up to take his place. Junior-whose real name was Leslie, but jokingly said that being called 'Junior' was the lesser of two evils-was surprised to see the gorgeous woman with the bandaged ankle chatting up his coworker, but he soon fell under her charms too. The men were pleasantly surprised when she asked them questions about their jobs; jobs that most people just dismissed with a wave over a shoulder as they headed toward the elevator. And speaking of which, she seemed really interested in the operations of the elevator, which finally made sense when she told them about the damage to her building's elevator and why she was staying with Mr. Castle for a while. And while Kate made sure they tended to business, that she didn't distract them from their jobs, she was having a good time conversing with them and watching them interact with the tenants of Castle's building as they came and went during the course of their afternoon.

So after a while of talking and exchanging work stories, Kate was surprised to see a familiar redhead walk through the doors. "Hello, Miss Alexis," Junior greeted her.

Kate smiled at her. "Alexis! You're done with school for the day?"

"Kate?" Alexis asked, surprised to see the detective sitting on the stool and looking highly comfortable in the doorman's alcove. "Are you...what are you doing here?" Then, realizing the question sounded odd, she clarified, "I mean, _here_, not like, upstairs or at the station?"

"Well, your dad and I went out to lunch after I saw the doctor, and then when he got back, he holed himself up in his office writing. I got bored and I'd all but memorized the coffee table books, so I decided to come down here, just to people-watch and get out of the loft for a little bit. Then I found Rafi and Junior, and here I am." She shrugged her shoulders, and then asked, "So what are you doing back so early? Did you have some sort of early release day?"

Alexis gazed back at her with a puzzled look. "Nooo..." She looked at the time on her phone. "I'm actually a little bit late because I stopped to ask Madame something about my French assignment after school."

The comment about being late caused Kate to look at her phone. Aside from the _seven_ missed calls, she noted from the clock that it was now about five o'clock! "Oh, my gosh, Alexis! I had no idea it was this late!" Turning to the two doormen, Rafi and Junior, she started apologizing. "Guys, I'm so sorry! I had no idea...we must have been talking for a few hours at least! Oh, I hope you don't get in trouble. If you do, just uh...let me know, okay?" The guys were smiling and waving her off, telling her it was no problem, it had been nice talking to her, and she should stop by again. But she went on, telling them, "Seriously, guys, if I caused any problems for you, call me, okay?" She grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down her cell number. "I can just say I was briefing you on security measures. It's at least a little bit true anyway, right?" she asked, referring to one of their many topics of conversation.

"No problem, Miz Beckett," Rafi said.

"Kate, remember?"

"Yes, ma'am," he acknowledged politely with a smile.

She turned back to Alexis. "Can I share the elevator up with you?"

"Sure."

With a final wave to the doormen she took out her phone and started her voicemail messages playing, trying to awkwardly hold the phone in between her ear and shoulder as she hobbled on the crutches toward the elevator with Alexis. Her phone had never even alerted her to the calls...then she remembered turning off the ringer in the doctor's office, probably never remembering to turn it back on. She absently wondered why she had seven voicemail messages; didn't dispatch know she was off today?

Then as she listened to the messages, Alexis watched as her face went from smiling to curious to surprised to anxious.

In Kate's ear, she heard:

_"Kate, hey, it's me, Rick. I was going to start dinner soon but I couldn't find you anywhere in the loft. Not sure if we were supposed to play a game of hide-and-seek or not, but if we were, then I concede the game to you, because I can't find you. Let me know where you are, okay? I have to know where you found this great hiding place." _

His message was delivered with typical Castle humor, but there was something underneath the casual words, something about his tone that implied he wasn't feeling as casual as he was trying to portray. Kate's eyebrows furrowed a bit as she listened to the next message.

Time: twenty minutes later:

_"Beckett, it's Castle. Uh, still wondering where you are. I mean, if you wanted to go out, I could have taken you somewhere...oh, crap, well, I'm not saying you couldn't go alone, because you're certainly capable. Yup, that's you, capable. But I'm just kind of wondering where you are, so, uh, give me a call, okay?"_

Time: Fifteen minutes after the second message:

_"Hey, Beckett, it's me again. Just wondering where you are. Still. Give me a call?"_

Time: Ten minutes after the third message:

_"Beckett, come on. Take a little pity on an old writer, okay? You win. Just give me call?"_

Time: eight minutes after the fourth message:

_"Beckett...Kate, just answer the phone. Or you don't have to answer the phone. Just text me back if you don't want to talk to me, okay? I saw you didn't take your coat, and even if you're mad at me, I still don't want you to freeze. It's winter, Kate, and you're not a polar bear. You need a coat. And even if you were a polar bear, you'd still need a coat but you'd just have one built in. Or grown on you. Or whatever. I'm going to call the boys and see if they've heard from you. But just...please call me back. Or text me. Okay?"_

In the fifth message, she definitely picked up more than a hint of desperation to his tone, desperation borne of worry. He'd been worried about her? She was beginning to see that, and the realization didn't sit well with her; she'd never intended to worry him.

Time: Seven minutes after the fifth message:

_"Beckett, it's Ryan. Castle just called about you and he wants you to call him. What did you do to the guy, Beckett? He sounds a little freaked. Is he having Beckett-withdrawl after the long weekend? Do us all a favor and call him back before he starts bugging me and Esposito, okay?"_

Oh, he did call the guys. Ryan's tone was somewhat bored, a total contrast to Castle's tone. But even Ryan said that Castle sounded freaked. Oh, great.

Time: Two minutes after Ryan's message:

_"Kate, uh, it's Castle. I know you're mad at me, and I promise that I'll never order for you again. But I'm...worried, Kate. I called Ryan and he hasn't seen you or heard from you. I know I'm not supposed to worry, but I am. You just vanished, and...God, Kate, please just call me."_

She mentally calculated the amount of time that he'd been leaving messages for her. Just over an hour. He'd been wondering where she was for an hour. She knew that when you were faced with an uncertain situation, the minutes just dragged on; each minute felt like five. She knew from the tone of Rick's voice and the decreasing time between messages that he wasn't just mildly curious as to her whereabouts, he was indeed worried about her, just as he'd said. He'd actually _told_ her that he was worried, and for him to admit that... Hearing his tone, and the messages, and the how the tone of his voice got just a little more desperate with each succeeding message...well, it made a little knot form in her stomach. If she had to admit it, she would have to say that the normally unflappable Rick Castle sounded just this side of frantic. And she'd done that to him. She'd never meant to, but she had. And it had nothing to do with Italian food orders. Hell, she didn't even care about Italian food orders right now.

If he'd been curious or nosy, it would be one thing. But he wasn't; she could tell that. He was worried, about her, because she'd just left, only to get out of the loft for a few minutes, but she'd ended up being gone for a few hours. And she'd lost track of time. When he couldn't reach her, it was obvious he thought she was mad at him and went to do something out of spite or bullheadedness, like she did with the library ladder in the Hamptons. Knowing him, he was probably imagining worst-case scenarios right now, especially with his imagination. The knot in her chest grew a little bit as she thought about him worrying needlessly. She knew he worried about her sometimes, but they weren't involved before so she just brushed it off. But now, with this shift in their relationship, she was a little more cognizant of it now, and she had to admit that knowing she was the cause of anxiety for him didn't make her feel good.

Just as the message finished, she could heard the beep of the elevator, signifying that they'd reached their floor. She leaned her head back against the elevator wall for a moment before the doors opened, closing her eyes. Alexis had been looking at her as she listened to the messages, wondering at what on earth Kate could possibly be listening to. "Is everything okay?" she prompted as they exited the elevator.

Kate swallowed. She shook her head. "No."

"Bad news from the precinct?" the girl asked, stopping just outside the elevator doors.

"No." She swallowed, and then continued. "I, uh, wasn't very nice to your dad."

"Huh?" Alexis knew that they gave each other grief all the time, but she'd never seen Kate look this...torn up about it.

Kate took a deep breath. "I was a brat." She saw the surprised look dawn on Alexis' face. Alexis never would have thought of the classy detective describing herself like that. "I got annoyed at your dad for some little thing, just because I was already mad about my stupid foot. And he shut himself in his office to work, and like I told you, I was bored so I went down to the lobby to people-watch. And I never said anything about where I was going, and then I was gone way longer than I thought I'd be. And he left me a bunch of messages and he sounds...kind of worried."

"If it's dad, and he doesn't know where you are, like _that,_" Alexis said pointedly, looking down at Kate's ankle, "I bet he's more than 'kind of worried'." Then as a chagrinned look passed over Kate's face, as the obvious thought occurred to Alexis. "But why didn't you just answer your phone?"

"I didn't hear...it was in silent mode. I never knew he called until I just looked and saw the missed calls and messages."

"Oh." They started walking toward the loft. "Do you want to call him from out here, kind of warn him so you don't have to see him quite yet? I could just go in alone."

Kate thought about it briefly, but quickly dismissed the idea. "No, I think I just need to go in right away so I can apologize."

"He'll understand. You didn't do it intentionally, after all. I mean, like he's never forgotten that his ringer was turned off? Puh-leeze," she finished dramatically, obviously trying to make Kate feel better. Kate stifled a smile, remembering a very recent time when he'd forgotten to turn his ringer on and the minor amount of temporary havoc that it had caused.

"I know, and thanks, but this one is mostly on me."

Alexis put her key in the door that they'd reached as they were talking, and she pushed the door open and walked through, leaving it open for Kate. As Kate made her way through the door, her eyes found Rick sitting on the sofa, his fingers splayed in his hair in a nervous gesture. He'd looked up when he'd heard the door open, and his eyes immediately locked with Kate's when he saw her cross the threshold.

When he registered that she was there, his eyes got big and he jumped up and started toward her. He gave his daughter a brief one-armed hug, but kept Kate in his line of sight as if he was afraid that she'd disappear again if he looked away. Kate went into the room a bit farther and stopped by a chair. Alexis, seeing that they only had eyes for each other, said to the room in general, "I'm just going to go to my room for a while to...study or something." Looking from one of the adults to the other, she made a quick exit. She did _not_ want to be a witness to whatever was going to happen here, good or bad.

Castle mumbled an automatic "See you later, pumpkin," but his eyes were on Kate the entire time.

He'd stopped a few feet in front of her. "You're...okay." She could feel the relief in his voice but almost before she could register it, he'd stepped forward and had pulled her into an embrace so strong that her crutches were forgotten and fell to the ground as he just about lifted her off the ground.

Out of reflex, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on, expecting his worry from his messages, but still not being prepared for this greeting. "Perfectly fine," she told him softly, into his neck. But reflex or not, worry or not, in some small part of her brain she admitted that it felt really good to be held like this by him.

"I didn't know where you were...you weren't here, and you weren't answering your phone, and then I saw your coat still here..." he trailed off. Then he pulled back so he could see her face, but still kept his arms tightly around her. "Where did you go?" he asked with a puzzled look on his face. Then he added, "Well, I mean, if you don't mind telling me. I mean, I'm not trying to check up on you or keep tabs-"

He stopped talking when she put two fingers over his mouth and said, "Shut up, Castle, and stop apologizing. I know you were worried, and I...I'm sorry. I'm not used to...this. Having someone wonder where I am, even having someone waiting for me. So I didn't even think to say anything when I left, and you were locked in your office anyway, and then I lost track of time." Then, on impulse, she removed her fingers and replaced them with her lips, giving him a quick kiss.

"You don't feel cold," he told her, running his arms up and down her back.

"I'm not. I never left the building."

"What?" His face displayed his surprise. "You were here? Where were you?"

"I was downstairs. Talking to Rafi and Junior," she told him with a shrug, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

His brows furrowed. "Rafi and Jun...the _doormen_? You were talking to my doormen?"

"Well, not yours specifically, Castle. You do have to share them with the other occupants of the building," she chided jokingly. "But I have to ask...can we go sit down while we discuss your captivating doormen?"

His eyebrows raised. "Captivating? My _doormen_?" he asked again. "Just what _did_ you discuss with them for hours, Beckett?" But he stepped back and released her, then noticed where the crutches were laying where they had fallen on the floor. "If I pick up your crutches for you, will you get mad at me?" he asked.

He looked wary. "No, Castle. I won't get mad at you for that. It would actually be a big help, so thank you."

Before he bent down to retrieve them from the floor, he gave her a sideways look and asked, "Who are you and what have you done with Don't-help-me-I-can-do-it-myself Beckett?"

She rolled her eyes. "Shut up, Castle, give me the crutches, and let's go sit on the couch. Unless you feel the need to escape to your office to go over more chapter outlines?" she asked, trying to counter his comment with a sassy-sounding one of her own

As they made their way to the couch, he admitted, "I only was working in my office because you wanted space. You were kind of mad about lunch."

She sat down on the couch and when she looked at him, she pursed her lips and furrowed her brow. But what came out of her mouth next was not what he expected. "Castle, about that...I'm sorry. I've been really annoyed about this whole thing," she gestured to her foot, "and then I can't even live in my own apartment. Then we're...dating or something, and...no, I didn't want space. Not _that_ much anyway. So I was annoyed about that too, so I just decided to get out because I was sick of those stupid books."

"My books made you leave? We haven't even talked about the latest book yet. I'm still outlining chapters. So how could-"

"Not Nikki Heat, Castle, _those_ books," she said, referring to the coffee table books. "I was stuck looking at them repeatedly after you ditched me for the excitement of your office."

"I didn't...I told you-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know that now. But Castle? Your books are a lot better at passing the time than the coffee table books."

"I should hope so," he told her with a cocky smile, but still oddly pleased from hearing her speak the mild compliment.

She turned a little bit then, and settled herself next to him. She leaned against him so closely, with her head against his shoulder, that he had no choice but to raise his arm to put it around her, although he was a little bit unsure about it, given the strange events of the day. "So you left because you didn't like my coffee table books. And you went to...talk to my doormen?" He still sounded confused about that. "I didn't even know that you were on such friendly terms with my doormen."

"Oh, Castle, do I detect a hint of jealousy?" she asked, ribbing him.

"Well, you did call them 'captivating'," he told her with some sarcastic sass in his voice.

She turned and gave him a kiss on his cheek, then went lower to nuzzle his neck for a second. "I enjoyed talking with them. And Rafi does have those big brown eyes that you can just get lost in..."

He pulled back to look in her face, his eyes wide. "What?" Then he saw the smirk on her face and said, "Funny."

"Yup," she agreed.

They were silent for a few moments before Kate said, "I'm sorry I worried you. Your messages...I'm sorry, Rick. I just meant to get out for a little while. I never thought that it would be as long as it was." Her tone was quiet, but sincere.

"I looked all over and I couldn't find you. And I know you were annoyed with me from earlier, and then I spotted your coat here..." She felt his hand absently rubbing his arm as he recounted his half of the episode to her. "I started imagining you out there in the cold, or that you'd fallen in a big slush puddle and had gotten stuck in it or something. I tried to call you so many times...why didn't you answer your phone? Or even text me back? "

"It was on silent," she replied in a small voice, seemingly embarrassed. "I never heard it at all."

He pulled back again to look in her face, and this time she could see the surprised smirk on his face. "So _you're _ the one who can't manage the ringer on her phone now, huh?"

"Oh, shut up, Castle," she told him.

"Wanna make me?" he asked, leaning forward so his lips were inches from hers. His invitation was clear, especially as she could feel his one arm encircle her more and tug her a little more tightly to him.

She didn't answer, but just leaned the rest of the way into him, turning her legs to drape them over his lap. She lifted one of her hands to his face, and ghosted the touch over his jawline and over his neck, finally reaching her fingers to the back of his neck to feel his hair but then traveling back forward to rest on his jaw as she played with his earlobe with her thumb and forefinger. Their lips touched, and then began the dance, nipping, sucking, kissing. He loved the feeling of her hand on his face, as if she was holding him there against her lips and wasn't going to let him go.

When they were both had a need for some oxygen, they reluctantly pulled away from each other and Kate rested her head against his neck as she regained her breath. "So am...I forgiven?" she asked.

"For what?"

"For running off and staying gone so long and worrying you."

"Oh, that. Something just made me forget that temporarily," he quipped. But then more seriously, he said, "I _was_ worried. So if you have to run off somewhere, even if you're mad at me, just tell me, okay?"

"I wasn't mad at you."

"Then why did you leave?"

"I was...oh, hell, I was just annoyed with everything and I was being a brat. Looking back on it now, I'm not terribly proud of that."

"Okay, this is me not really responding to your self-assessment lest it get me in deep trouble, but can you tell me what brought you to the conclusion that you're a brat?"

"Your doormen."

"They called you a brat?" Once again, she left him wondering. "I have to admit, Kate, I'm having a hard time following you whenever you talk about the doormen."

"No, Castle, they didn't call me a brat! They're much too nice for that. We just talked, and over the course of the time I talked to them, I realized that there's a lot worse things than this. I have a great job, good friends, and while this is damn inconvenient, there are worse things that could have happened."

"Wow! Are you sure you haven't been taken over by your more reasonable clone?"

"Castle, do you _want_ me to keep sitting here, or should I go down and talk to the doormen some more?" she threatened, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Sorry. It's just...wow."

"Let's just say that I've decided to make lemonade, okay, Castle?" she said,referring to their discussion in the doctor's office earlier. "I came to the conclusion that things will be a lot more pleasant that way, for me and for you."

"Are you going to be perky now?" he asked, referencing her previous description of the 'lemonade' adage.

"Not on your life. Is 'perky' really the word you'd use to describe this face?"

No, he thought. Hot, gorgeous, sultry, beautiful, exquisite, extraordinary, and amazing would be just a few words that he would use. Definitely _not_ perky. But he only said, "Not exactly," and leaned forward to give her not-perky face another quick kiss. "Hey, Kate?" he asked after their lips separated again. "Does this mean that I can maybe help you with some things and you won't get mad at me?"

She thought about it and then said, "Okay, writer boy. Some things. After all, I already said you could in the Hamptons, but I just got sidetracked a little bit with the change of venue, I guess. But try to just keep the boy scout reasonably in check, and then the brat won't have to come out of her room to smack him. Deal?"

"Deal," he smiled. But then he looked at her again more seriously. "But Kate?"

"Yeah?"

"After dinner, will you _please_ tell me what's so captivating about my doormen?"

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><p><em><strong>Oh, how I wish I could convey tone and some of the wonderful facial expressions that the actors are capable of. But I can't, so I just hope you could imagine them as you were reading.<strong>_

_**Next up: back to work!**_

_**Thoughts?**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**I'm back with chapter 3! Thanks to those peole who took the time to leave me a review for the last chapter; your comments are greatly appreciated and let me know if I'm on the right track or not. I was glad several of you liked the 'brat' reference. Wasn't sure if that was too much or not, but hey, she WAS being a brat, right?**_

_**I hope you enjoy this chapter. **_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters. I wish!**_

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><p>"Seriously, you want to be in by seven a.m.?"<p>

Kate looked at Rick over the counter as he was putting away the items from their dinner. Back in a better place after their talk, neither one had been very anxious to leave the couch to actually think about making dinner. It took Alexis coming down the stairs tentatively, asking about dinner, to make them actually think about moving.

Once again, when Kate saw the girl and remembered where she was-sitting on the couch, snuggled against Rick, his arm around her and her legs still draped over his lap-she tensed at the feeling of being 'caught'. When she shifted as if to put more distance between them, she felt Rick's arm that was around her tighten as if he was telling her 'just chill and stay put'. And really, she had no choice because of Rick's hold and because Alexis, in typical teenage fashion, had bounded down the stairs and was in front of them before she could do much of anything. She would have made a spectacle of herself trying to scramble away when the teenager was standing there watching.

And Alexis didn't seem fazed by seeing them together like this, not in the least, even though Kate herself was still uncomfortable with it. Since they'd sat for so long talking (and kissing) on the couch, Rick, after he saw how late it had become, suggested they just order a pizza. After agreeing on toppings, Alexis went back to her room, satisfied that her dad wasn't freaking out anymore and Kate had made amends for whatever she thought she'd done. It was obvious, with the way they were sitting, that something positive had happened to get rid of that awkward, tense vibe that she'd been hit with when she walked through the door that night.

After Alexis went upstairs, Rick smiled at Kate. "So how long do you think it will be before you don't freeze up like a criminal caught in the act whenever my daughter sees us within a foot of each other?"

She glared at him as she lightly slapped his chest. "Oh, shut up, Castle. I'm not used to this. It's like having a hidden camera or being on one of those reality TV shows where you know you're being watched."

"So you think my daughter is watching us? Like she's some sort of peeping tom?"

"No! _You'd_ be the one I'd peg as a peeping tom anyway," she told him, and got a glare in return. " But anyway, I said it just _feels_ like she is. Whenever we get...close. And then it seems like...poof! She's there." She paused a moment, and then she realized how it sounded. "I didn't mean that I want her to leave or something. This is her house. I'm just-"

"Kate?" he interrupted.

"What?"

"Relax. I know what you mean. And she didn't interrupt anything this time. We're just sitting here."

"Yeah. But I just have to get used to this...dating thing. This dating _you_ thing."

"Fair enough," he said, giving her a kiss before disentangling their limbs so he could go into the kitchen to order some food.

After dinner, they still had one piece of pizza and a slice of garlic bread left. He packaged it up and put it in the refrigerator, saying that Alexis would probably eat it as a snack at some point. He'd casually asked about the next day, going into the precinct, and that's when she'd given him the time that she wanted to arrive and he'd expressed his surprise at her answer.

"Yes, seriously."

"But...but...you're injured. You need more rest. You can't go in that early," he justified, trying to find some reason to go in a bit later. Because if he was taking her in, then that meant that _he_ had to get up that early too, and that sounded way too early to him, especially on a Tuesday, especially after having a few days off, and _especially_ when he just wanted to keep Kate to himself for as long as possible.

She rolled her eyes. "I think I can handle it, Castle. And hey, if it's too early for you, I can just grab a cab."

"No!' he countered immediately. "I'll get up. Reluctantly, though, I might add," he finished with a pout. "Better plan some time to stop for coffee though. I think I'll need it at that hour."

His words reminded her of all of the times that he brought her coffee, handing it to her as he sat down, or simply sitting it on her desk. Sometimes handing it to her at crime scenes. It was so much of a constant in their relationship, even going back to when he bought the expresso machine for the homicide division break room, and when she'd tried to avoid using it, purely on principle, before she caved. A good cup of coffee was worth more than that little bit of pride she gained in refusing to use the machine all of those years ago.

But thinking of the machine made her think of the precinct, and thinking of the precinct made her think of Ryan and Esposito. And thinking of Ryan and Esposito made her think of looks, and bets, and all of the times that she and Castle were asked 'Are we interrupting something?'.

"Castle," she started.

"Hmmm?"

"The guys...nobody knows about any of...this. Us."

"Yeah?"

"And I don't really..."

"...want them to know about us?" he tried to finish for her. She nodded reluctantly. "Why not?"

"Because you're...you, and I'm...I don't normally...people...God, I'm making a mess out of this, aren't I?"

She could see the cloud come down over his eyes as he got an idea of what she was trying to say. "I'm me?" His lips set in a grim line. "You mean I have a playboy image and you don't want people to know you're dating me because they'll think less of you?" His voice had suddenly acquired a hard edge to it, and all of the joking Castle-ness that was so inherent in him appeared to be gone now.

Wow...that was harsh. When she heard it like that, out loud, with that edge to his voice, it actually made her shrink back a little bit. She stared at him in silence, starting to shake her head, trying to figure out how to voice the protest, how to tell him what she was really trying to say but couldn't manage to get out eloquently. But before she could protest, he continued.

"That's okay. I should have expected it anyway, I guess. It's hard to live down an image sometimes." His voice held a resigned tone, all of a sudden so different than the cocky exhuberance usually evident. "Don't worry, I won't mention our new relationship status to anyone." He stared off into space for a minute, as she was somewhat stunned, watching this conversation spin out of control when she'd hardly been able to even utter a coherent sentence to explain her viewpoint. But he turned away from her then, as if he was going to leave the kitchen right in the middle of this mess of a conversaton. As he left, he spoke over his shoulder. "I'm just going to go-Wha? OW!" he yelled, turning around.

When he'd turned to leave, she'd done the first thing she could think of. Well actually, she didn't really think, she just reacted. She intuitively knew that if she merely called him back, it wouldn't work. Her words weren't doing too well for her anyway, so she looked around and, grabbing the first thing that she saw-a plum sitting in a bowl on the counter-she picked it up and threw it at him, connecting with a purple splat on the top of his shoulder.

After he spun back around, they stared at each other with twin expressions of shock on their faces-his because he'd apparently just been hit with a piece of fruit, and hers because she'd thrown the fruit that had just hit him. She'd just thrown a piece of fruit at him! It had certainly served her purposes-to stop him from leaving the room-well enough, but the look on his face right then...oh, my, the look on his face was utterly priceless. She wished she had a camera right now.

And they stood there staring at each other, both shocked. Finally Kate could stand it no more, and he saw the corners of her mouth twitch upward as she gave in to the humor of the situation. "Good grief, Beckett!" he said. "Did you really just throw something at me? What..." He looked down at the floor where the remainder of the smashed plum had fallen to the floor. "Is that a plum?"

"I think it was when I threw it." She put a hand over her mouth as she started laughing.

"Why did you throw a plum at me?" he asked, still somewhat shocked.

"Because you were jumping to conclusions and then you were leaving before I could correct you. Hey, I promised not to leave without talking to you. The rules are the same for you, buster, and you're obviously mad. And I couldn't exactly run after you, so I did the next best thing to stop you."

"_So you throw fruit at me? That's_ the next best thing?"

"Well, at the time it was. Now will you get over here so I can explain more what I was talking about?" She raised an eyebrow at him in challenge.

"Will I be safe from flying fruit?" he asked suspiciously.

"You will be unless you try to leave again."

With a suspicious glance at her, he skirted around the edge of the counter and came to sit next to her in the next chair. "Okay, what? What was so important that it required you to pelt me with fruit?"

"You made it seem like I'm ashamed to be seen with you, to have people know about us. And I'm not. It's not that."

His eyes, not really in his prime poker playing form, revealed that she was right with her assessment of what he'd been thinking. "Then what is it? What's so 'me' that you don't want people to know about us?" he asked, reminding her of her words.

"You're rich and you're kind of famous-"

"Kind of?" He sounded affronted at the minimization of his fame. That type of response was automatic for him, but it did serve to lighten the tension a bit.

Leave it to him to pick that out. "Focus, Castle. Yes, you do have a playboy reputation, and that was a concern of mine, before. But I've been around you enough now to know that you're more than that. And I think you know that if you try anything playboy-ish when we're dating, I WILL shoot you." She paused for the effect of her words to sink in before she continued. "But everyone at the precinct...they're going to think you wore me down."

"Didn't I?" he asked with a sly grin.

She gave him a withering look to tell him to be serious. "I guess I'm still trying to get used to this myself, in my own head, so I'd rather not make our...relationship...public fodder right now. And we all know that you're in the public eye, Castle. I don't want people to think I'm just some groupie. We're..." she trailed off, pausing. She swallowed, and it almost looked like a nervous gesture to him. "We're more than that. I know that. And I told you last night, I don't want to mess this up. And you said we can go slowly. So can we just enjoy what we have in private right now, for a while?"

"For how long? Will I ever be able to take you out on a real date? That was what we'd planned, you know."

"I know. And we'll go out. In a little while...a few weeks or a month maybe? And I promise you can wine and dine me, and...you know. But it's just with the guys, and work...you know how they can be. I just want to keep our private lives away from our work lives. Not make a big deal out of it right away. Just let them figure it out over time."

He thought about it for a minute. "Not tell anyone that we're...together? Like more-than-partners together?"

She bit her bottom lip lightly. "Yeah."

"Like, you want to keep everything a secret from them."

She nodded.

"Not even tell Ryan or Esposito? Not Lanie?"

She thought about it, but then shook her head no. "Not right away, anyway."

After he clarified, he thought about it again, pursing his lips together and looking up in the air while he rubbed his chin between his thumb and forefinger like a studious professor. "I zink eet could be ze very interesting expereement," he said in a bad German accent.

It was enough to ease some of the tension she was feeling, and she felt a laugh gurgle out of her as she whacked his chest lightly. "Stick to the French accent, Castle. At least you were making some small amount of progress with that one."

Then, more seriously, she laid her hand on his. "I'm not ashamed to be seen with you. That's just...silly. I'm not afraid of your reputation, because I can see now that a lot of that isn't really true. I'm just still wondering how we're going to do this transition to 'more'. We've been partners and friends for so long..."

He turned his hand over and clasped hers. "We're going to do fine. We've done pretty well already, right?"

"Rick, I scared you when I left earlier, and I just threw fruit at you. Do you really call _that_ 'fine'?"

"Well, when you put it like that...then...I guess you really do need to work on your responses to relationship issues," he told her dryly, fighting a grin when he said it.

"Me?" she countered. "You were the one who was going to leave and go hide!"

"And then _you_ pelted me with fruit!"

"Hey, it was a good thing! It had the positive effect of getting you back here so we could talk about things," she reasoned in a somewhat haughty tone, defending her unusual display.

"Yeah, nothing says 'I love you' like a plum splatting on your shoulder," he quipped with a smile. But then he saw her eyes get big and her face go slack, and she yanked her hand out of his. And he suddenly realized what he'd said. "Oh, I...uh... Kate, I didn't...that was...it's just a saying. That's all. Nothing more to it," he dodged.

"A saying...yeah. Good." She looked down, away from him. _'Nothing says 'I love you'...' _ After that slip, feeling a very definite nervous punch in her belly, she couldn't look at him. Her urge to flee was intense. "I...uh...it's getting late," she said, grabbing her crutches and starting to head toward the bedroom. "I think I'll turn in now."

Oh, God, way to put his foot in it. Hell, he'd just put both feet in it, and they'd been wearing moon boots in a size 18. He'd gotten her to agree to dating, and she wanted to go slowly. But then he had to go and mention that 'L' word. Even though it was in an off-hand manner, it was now still 'out there' and he could see that Kate was befuddled by it. They were just getting a little better at being honest with each other, and then he had to go and mention _that_. That was the epitome of un-slow. 'Way to push, Rick,' he chastised himself as he watched her hobble away toward the bedroom. "Kate..."

"Good night, Castle," she called over her shoulder in dismissal.

He watched her go, looking up at the ceiling and closing his eyes. How in the world could this be so difficult? One step forward, two steps back, two steps forward, one step back. All of this, and it seemed like they were back in the same place they were several days ago. He recalled the deer-in-the-headlights look that he'd seen immediately after he tossed out the 'L' phrase. It was the same look he'd seen on her face right after the first few times that they'd kissed. After he'd surprised her in the bathroom after her shower. It was a look that spoke of how uncomfortable she was. And the last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable, not when they'd come as far as they had. He shook his head, thinking that he'd really have to work on his think-before-you-speak filter a bit more.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Kate got into Castle's bedroom and shut the door, needing the escape that the closed door provided. God, they'd just agreed to a relationship, a somewhat secret relationship, at least for now, they'd had a mini-fight, and then he has to go and say..._that_? She so wished that her ankle was normal so she could go for a run, clear her head. It was just that word. She knew that word, that emotion existed for some people, but with all of her thoughts from the night before, all of the deep, personal, scary thoughts from the night before, all of the what-if thoughts about him maybe being her one-and-done...hearing that word come out of his mouth made her freeze up. And basically run away again. She wasn't ready for that word to come up, even in the most casual way. They'd just started officially dating! She _really_ wasn't ready for that. But she hoped...she hoped that her quiet little freak-out and vanishing act hadn't damaged whatever new thing they were trying to build. Their 'more'. She hoped she hadn't just made their 'more' into 'less'.

She went into the bathroom and quickly changed and got herself ready for bed. She made her way over to the bed and crawled between the soft sheets. She knew that with what had just happened, her mind was not going to shut off anytime soon.

She laid there, half expecting him to come in and try to finagle his way into sleeping with her...uh, sleeping _in the same bed_ as her again. But he never did. Even though she glanced at the door several times, she tried telling herself that she wasn't disappointed when it never opened.

Upstairs in the spare bedroom, Rick was having the same problems sleeping. He wanted to be downstairs right now, curled up with her, but he was here. She said the night before that she wanted space sometimes, so instinct told him that this was the time she needed some of that space. And after what had happened with his verbal gaffe, and seeing her reaction, he figured it was _not_ the time to push her to share a bed again, much as he might want to.

So he settled in for a long night, and he hoped that sleep didn't prove to be too elusive.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

They found each other at about 6:15 the next morning. He was in the kitchen, holding a cup of coffee and looking like he was trying not to fall asleep standing up. She came in, fully dressed, and had to smile at the spectacle of an early-morning Castle, one that still didn't appear to be fully awake. He perked up a little bit when he saw her, and he gestured her into a chair and poured her a cup of coffee, which he slid across the counter until it was in front of her.

She uttered a 'thanks' and then they sipped their hot beverages in silence for a few minutes. Then he turned around and got some english muffins and popped them in the toaster. When they were toasted, he put one on a plate in front of her and said, "They're not bear claws, but they're something. Let's eat and then we can get going. Although I still don't quite understand why you need to be at the 12th quite so early. Geez, Beckett, are you thinking about switching to the night shift or something?"

His lighthearted whining about the early time served to dispel some of the awkwardness about how they'd left things the night before. "A little testy this morning, Castle? If it's too early for you, I told you I can take a cab," she reminded him.

"No," he said, holding up a hand. "I just need a bit more coffee before I'll be ready to brave the cold, dark morning. Besides," he said, looking at her pointedly, "you're not getting rid of me that easily."

Their eyes caught and held. So much of their relationship was spoken with looks, or with words that weren't really said, but interpreted. They read between the lines. And when he made that comment, that's exactly what Kate did. He wasn't scared away, not by her reticence, not by her awkward way of saying things, not by her freak-outs or need for space. And she...she appreciated that. A lot.

She nodded briefly and nothing more was said as they ate their muffins and drank their coffee in silence. When she was done, she got up and said, " I'm going to go brush my teeth again before we go in. But first..." She made her way over to stand by him and, looking up into his face, she wound her hand around the back of his neck to pull his lips down to hers. They kissed for a few seconds, and then she pulled back and smiled at him. "Good morning. And thanks for breakfast."

He smiled back at her, and she knew that _he_ had received _ her_ unspoken message as well. "You're welcome, Detective." He leaned down to give her another quick kiss. "Ten minutes?"

"Make it five," she told him, and headed back to find her toothbrush with a new smile on her face.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

An hour later, Beckett and Castle sat in their respective places at her desk and beside her desk, steaming mugs of coffee in front of them. She was looking at case files, as she usually did, and he was looking at her, as he usually did. All in all, it looked like a normal day. Except it was only 7:30 a.m., and it was rare that Castle was in that early.

"Beckett! You're back! How's the foot?" Esposito had obviously been briefed on her condition by the Captain. "And...Castle? You're in here _this_ early? Man, what's up with _that_?" And he stood there with his arms crossed and waited for an answer.

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><p><em><strong>Hope you enjoyed it. Drop me a line and let me know, okay? Makes me want to write the next chapter faster. And will you believe that leaving a review will give you really good luck for the rest of the day? No? Well, it was worth a try. :)<strong>_


	4. Chapter 4

_**For this chapter, I want to remind you of the timeline: before Blizzard, Beckett was unattached, having broken up with Josh already (don't we wish that could have really happened?). And of course, since they started their relationship away from the precinct, nobody knows that anything happened; that there even IS a different relationship between them now.**_

_**A few people have commented lately about typos in reviews for older chapters of my other stories. As it is, those chapters were published a LONG time ago and nobody caught the errors, and since the system gets rid of the working copy of the chapter after 60 days, it's harder to go in and edit them. So, anyway, if you see typos that I haven't caught in my more current stories like this one, I'd greatly appreciate it if you'd let me know so I can correct them.**_

_**I'm not sure about this chapter. I went around and around with it in my brain; some parts I like, some parts I don't. If you hate it badly, please be gentle.**_

_**Disclaimer: the usual.**_

* * *

><p><em>Previously: An hour later, Beckett and Castle sat in their respective places at her desk and beside her desk, steaming mugs of coffee in front of them. She was looking at case files, as she usually did, and he was looking at her, as he usually did. All in all, it looked like a normal day. Except it was only 7:30 a.m., and it was rare that Castle was in that early.<em>

_"Beckett! You're back! How's the foot?" Esposito had obviously been briefed on her condition by the Captain. "And...Castle? You're in here this early? Man, what's up with that?" And he stood there with his arms crossed and waited for an answer._

* * *

><p>Castle was still feeling a bit mentally sluggish this morning despite the multiple cups of coffee he'd already ingested. And of course, there was the fact that Beckett didn't want anyone knowing about the changes in their relationship quite yet, so he wasn't quite sure how to answer that question without revealing more than she wanted revealed. But Esposito was standing there looking at him, and if he didn't say something he knew Espo would continue to glare at him, and then he'd start squirming and would probably say the wrong thing. "I...uh-"<p>

"Castle gave me a ride, Esposito," Beckett interrupted in a no-nonsense, matter-of-fact voice that almost held a bored tone to it. She moved her chair back and extended her right foot that still had the pressure-wrap around it. "Right foot...can't drive, you know? So Castle whined a lot, but got up early so he could pick me up, and then he whined some more. Sorry you missed it, but maybe he'll do an encore performance for you if you're lucky."

"So, you actually let _Castle_ drive?" Esposito asked with raised eyebrows.

"Well, I didn't have much of a choice, now did I? Besides, if I have to be like this, then at least his SUV is a better smelling alternative than potentially dealing with the guys on the subway who think bathing is optional."

"Thank you for that," he told her, "although I would hope that, ankle problems or not, my vehicle will always be the preferable alternative to the aromatic subway."

"Well, you do have heated seats..." she said thoughtfully. "But it's a temporary situation. As soon as I'm cleared for driving, you know it's back to my car. Don't get too used to ruling the road, Buster." She told him the last part in a no-nonsense voice, pointing a finger at his chest, emphasizing her views that this was a temporary situation.

"Well, maybe you'll get so used to my heated seats _and_ me driving by then that we can switch off sometimes," he countered, trying to reason with her. "Hey, we could put the gumball on the top of my SUV...now _that_ would be so cool!"

She rolled her eyes at him and then fixed him with a Beckett-glare. "My gumball will never be on top of your SUV."

As soon as she said the words, Castle got a smile on his face. "That sounded suprisingly dirty. But I like it," he told her with a nod and a typical Castle grin.

Beckett threw her pen at him and turned away from him a little bit, trying to stifle a smile, and then she noticed Esposito still standing there, arms crossed, with one of his hands rubbing his chin between the thumb and forefinger, much like Castle's 'German professor' pose from the night before. He had his eyes narrowed as he looked at them, but he didn't say anything. The smile dropped from her face as she realized that she'd just totally forgotten he was there as she got caught up in the conversation with Castle.

She waited for Esposito to say something, but then when he didn't, she prompted, "What?"

Esposito shifted, his legs moving into a slightly wider stance that looked a touch more menacing. Then he said, "Did you guys go and get married or something since we saw you last?"

After the M-word was uttered, the room seemed to stand still. 'Married?' Kate thought. "_What_?" Beckett said at the same time that Castle stammered, "_Married?_ Huh...wha...no!" followed by a nervous little laugh.

"Esposito!" was the only other thing Kate could manage to say.

"No?" Esposito said, adopting a more relaxed pose and demeanor, secretly relishing how he'd very successfully ruffled the feathers of the Detective and the Author. "My bad. It was just the way you two were bickering with each other, you sounded like an old married couple. Even more than normal. For a minute there, it just seemed like..." He trailed off and shrugged. "Sorry." He turned around and headed over to his desk, but cast an odd glance back at the two of them, who were still looking at him with stunned expressions on their faces. To Esposito, it was obvious he was joking, just as they all did with Castle and Beckett from time to time. Of course they wouldn't go off during some random weekend and get married! But why were they being all weird then?

Then it hit him: Castle had two failed marriages. Probably just the mere mention of marriage would send him into a panic attack. So as he sat down, he said to the pair, "Oh yeah, I forgot." He snapped his fingers in an 'a ha!' gesture. "Castle's allergic to marriage. Hope I didn't give you hives or something by bringing it up, bro," he finished apologetically.

"Yeah," Rick laughed uncomfortably, "Just that word...whoa...you know, panic attack time!" he tried to cover, giving a little chuckle. "Marriage, yeah...you know, never again! Eww...baaaaad memories" he said with an exaggerated shudder.

Kate was left looking at him, and then just shook her head as she put her head down and opened a file folder, attempting to look like she was concentrating on the contents of the folder. But she wasn't; she was thinking about Castle's emphatic negative response to what Esposito had said. And for some reason, it bothered her. She couldn't quite put her finger on why, but it did bother her. She'd heard him talk with derision about his failed marriages in the past, so that wasn't new. Maybe she was just still reeling from the comment from Esposito when they were trying to keep their relationship secret. Yeah, that was probably what it was...the shock of the comment.

After a few uncomfortable moments, she surrepitiously looked up to find Esposito thankfully not looking her way, and Castle sitting in his chair, actually twiddling his thumbs and looking at them pensively as they twiddled. Funny that she'd always thought that talking about twiddling one's thumbs was an exercise in exaggeration or merely an expression, but to see Castle actually do it...she had to admit that he had it down to an art form.

She looked back to the file after that and made herself concentrate on it. After forcing her mind to leave behind the comment that Esposito had made and the shocked reactions, she saw that the file merely needed her review and a few signatures after some final reports had been generated and added to the file. She'd just finished signing her name in her loopy script when Ryan walked in, giving a similar reaction as Esposito had given just a bit earlier.

"Hey, Beckett! Heard about the foot. How's it feeling?"

"Hey, Ryan. It's okay as long as I don't do anything with it," she said with some annoyance. She brought it out from under her desk to give Ryan the obligatory look. "I'm meeting with the physical therapist this afternoon."

"Oh," he said as he looked at it, realizing one of the major problems, "it's your right foot. How are you going to drive?"

"I'm not," she told him bluntly, not offering any more information.

"Ouch. Well, if you need me to pick you up in the morning, just let me know. Your place isn't too far out of my way."

"Thanks, Ryan," she said, touched by the immediate offer to help.

"Castle picked her up today. I walked in this morning and I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. I mean, _Castle_ in here this early?" Esposito interjected. "That's why he looks like a zombie."

"Thanks," Castle responded dryly.

Ryan leaned back on his heels and scrutinized Castle. "Yeah, he's right, Castle. You do look like crap. Not used to being in this early? Or did you find some little hottie this weekend?" he asked, giving him an exaggerated wink and a grin. "Yeah, I bet that's it. Snuggled up with her in your nice big bed to keep warm during the blizzard, huh? Looks like she didn't let you get much sleep. Then Beckett drags you out to give her a ride this morning. Way to come back to the real world." He shook his head with mock sympathy.

Castle stared at him, somewhat slackjawed. Because basically, Ryan was right: Beckett could definitely be described as a 'hottie', and he did spend a considerable amount of time snuggled up with her over the course of the long weekend that they'd just spent together. So when he recovered, he just nodded his head. "Yup, you're exactly right," he said nonchalantly.

Esposito's eyes flickered and he looked from Castle to Beckett, who, after hearing Castle's affirmation, had the same slackjawed look that her partner had had just moments ago. But then her eyes narrowed and he could tell that Beckett was _not_ pleased with what she just heard, although she hid it well. But he knew those looks. He stood up to try to give them some sort of distraction before anything more was said about this, but before he could get over there, Ryan leaned closer to Castle and said, "Well, uh...okay then, Castle. Come on, man, details. With the hotties that you can get from just snapping your fingers, man, we gotta have details."

Esposito could see Beckett's eyes get big, and now she seemed to have fire shooting from them. And before he could intervene, she slammed the file folder shut and stood up. "Ryan, zip it. Precinct, remember? This isn't a men's locker room. Castle, break room, now." She grabbed her crutches and took off in a surprisingly determined crutch-hop toward the break room.

Esposito and Ryan watched them go, and then Esposito slapped Ryan on the back of his head before he started back to his desk. "Nice," Esposito told him sarcastically.

"What?" Ryan asked him, perplexed.

"Dude, are _you_ a zombie this morning too? She broke up with the Doctor a while ago; you know that. So you know we're all thinking that maybe Beckett will finally give him a chance . But then you have to go pointing out Castle's weekend playtime _in front of Beckett_? How in the world is _that_ going to help them?"

"He didn't deny it!"

"Well, he's dense like that sometimes and Beckett plays it close to the vest. And then you had to go and ask for _details_! Didn't you see the look on her face? She was ready to kill him! God only knows what's going on in that breakroom right now! You know, before you came in, they started talking to me but then they got into it with each other and totally forgot I was there, like they were so into each other. You know how they get like that. But then you have to go talk about Castle doing some other babe all weekend! And you want _details_! In front of Beckett!"

"Hey, I just was kidding around, but then...he didn't deny it!" Ryan tried to justify again.

Esposito just shook his head, but then they both glanced toward the break room and hoped that everything would be okay with them. Neither one of them wanted to work with Beckett when she was mad at Castle. It wasn't pretty. Finally Ryan spoke, observing, "Well at least she can't kick him too hard with her bum leg."

"And she can't shoot him in the precinct. But will you just keep your mouth shut about Castle's love life now, bro?" he asked as a loud thump could be heard from the direction of the break room. Both of their gazes whipped back in that direction.

Oh, God, did Beckett just throw Castle into a wall or something? Uh-oh. "Yeah. After that, I wonder if he'll even be able to have a love life anymore."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"What?" Castle asked as soon as they got into the deserted break room.

"What do you mean, what? Shut the damn door, Castle." He complied and then she continued, but still in a hushed voice so it didn't have as much of a chance of carrying. "I thought we agreed to keep our...us...our thing from the boys and Lanie for now. And then at practically the first opportunity, you're about to spill everything to Ryan!"

"What?" he said again. "I wasn't going to say anything about us!"

"Sure! Ryan asked for details and I know how you guys are about that stuff."

She was really agitated, Castle could see that now. He instinctively tried to grab her hand to try to reassure her that he wasn't going to do anything to spill their secret. Touching her was easier, more automatic now, after the weekend, and he just...wanted to, especially when she was bordering on upset. But when she saw him try to grab her hand, she yanked it out of his way and it hit the wall with a loud slap, and the sound reverberated throughout the room. "Kate..." he said as he flinched from the loud sound.

"Castle, what are you trying to do?" she asked agitatedly.

"Kate, for goodness sakes, calm down! I wasn't going to say anything about you to the guys, and I was only trying to hold your hand just now. Is it okay, by the way? It made a pretty big bang when you hit it."

"It's fine," she told him, but shook it a little bit anyway. She took a deep breath. "Esposito seemed like he knew something before when he made that marriage comment, and you got all weird, and then when Ryan asked you if you'd spent the weekend in bed with some bimbo, you _confirmed it_ ! God, how are we ever going to keep this from them if you can't turn on your brain to mouth filter?"

"Once again, calm down! Geez, Beckett, I make my living with words. I can handle what I say to them. And if you recall, Ryan didn't say bimbo, he said 'hottie'. And I didn't deny it because well, you _are_ hot," he said with a grin and a shrug, which earned a slight glare from her, "and I _did_ spend the weekend with you, and we_ did_ spend time snuggled together in my bed. So all of that _was indeed _true! But I wasn't going to give them any details, or tell them it was you! God, Kate, give me some credit! And if _you_ don't calm down, you're going to be the one that blows it, not me."

While he was explaining in his calm voice, she thought back to the conversation and she realized that he was right. "You weren't going to tell them? Really?"

"No! Let them wonder."

"Well, they won't wonder something else if you're seen holding my hand!"

"Sorry. That was just...instinct. Comfort. I can touch you now, and I...I like to," he said endearingly, with a little smile.

She huffed out another breath. "Well can you wait on the hand-holding until we get home, at least?"

Home. She'd called the loft home. He knew she probably didn't mean to, but for some reason he really liked the sound of it. And he wasn't going to point it out to her so she could take it back or overanalyze that too, so he just said, "Okay. But I may want more than to just hold your hand. I might need a few hugs, a number of kisses-"

"Castle, will you shut up with that kind of talk? You can't talk like that around here!" But then she lowered her voice even more and said, "But if you can be a good boy all day, I may give you more than a few hugs tonight. Okay?"

He smiled that cute, eager smile just then, and she felt herself calm down just looking at it. "Sorry, I...Esposito's comment, and then Ryan coming in, and then him implying that you picked up some bimbo and spent the whole weekend...you know, and then when you didn't deny it...I just..."

"Yes, I know. And you thought everyone automatically thought it was you, even though that was the farthest thing from the truth. You just have a guilty conscience."

"Do not!"

"Do too, and don't bother to deny it anymore, Detective."

"Fine," she replied, shaking her head, not wanting to argue with him anymore because she knew he could argue a point forever. "So should we go out yet? Try not to look too happy, Castle, or they'll never believe that I was in here kicking your ass."

"Can I just say that when you say it like that, it really sounds kind of-"

"No! Focus, Castle. And not on me! Focus on _not_ focusing on me, okay?"

"Got it. I think. But I do have one question before we go out there."

"Okay. What? And it had better not be inappropriate for the station."

"No. It's just...you're not telling them about staying with me?"

She nodded briefly. "Caught that, did you? But yeah...I tried to avoid the issue and it worked well enough. Can you imagine what they would say if they knew I was staying with you for a while?"

"Point taken. And at least you were correct when you said that I picked you up this morning. I did. I just picked you up in front of my building instead of yours. But never fear...my lips are sealed," he said, pantomiming zipping his lips shut, locking them and throwing away the key.

"So are we ready to go back to the bullpen now?" He nodded. "Okay, but try to look like I yelled at you or something."

"You did," he reasoned correctly, out loud.

"Then it shouldn't be too hard to look like I yelled at you. And I thought your lips were zipped. God, that didn't last very long." She rolled her eyes at him as she started hobbling to the door and put her hand on the knob. She looked back at Castle. "Remember, I'm the Detective, and you follow me. That's it, at least for here. Why don't you stay in here for a few minutes like you're sulking. Will that work?"

He nodded at her but didn't say anything, remembering his zipped lips. But before she turned away, he grabbed a newspaper and put it side of his face so only she could see, and puckered up his lips, blowing her a little air kiss. "Can it, Castle," she told him, and then left the room as he turned away from the door so nobody else saw his grin.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"I don't like him."

Kate looked over Castle as he drove back to his loft late that afternoon after Kate's physical therapy appointment. Castle had been good with the lack of PDAs for the rest of the day, although she wondered if he was keeping his mind off of potential PDAs by being extra annoying. As she began to go through cold cases, he twiddled his thumbs as he'd done earlier in the morning. When she made the mistake of mentioning it, he decided to look up thumb twiddling on his phone and he began to regale her with the history of various methods of thumb twiddling, famous thumb twiddlers, not to mention the history of thumb twiddling. She was so genuinely annoyed with him that finally, mid-afternoon, she ordered him in a steely voice to go outside of the station to get her some coffee. When he came back, she informed him that he still owed her and in penance for his annoying behavior, he could drop her off at her therapy appointment on his way home. Of course, this was said in a loud enough voice so the others could hear. Of course, he already was well aware of everything from the visit to the doctor the day before, yet he still did a good job of looking surprised and asking about the time of the appointment, etc. even though he was already planning to not only drive her, but also wait around with her and take her back to to the loft afterwards.

But now, she looked at the scowl that he still wore on his face as he drove, the scowl that had made its appearance soon after they were introduced to her therapist, she innocently asked, "Why?" in response to his question, trying to look puzzled, as if she didn't already know the answer.

"He's...too big."

She looked over at him, her brows crinkled, her mouth open. "_What?"_ she asked. "Okay, too _big_? Castle, I have to admit that your brain works in some interesting ways, but that makes absolutely no sense."

"What? He _is_ big," he argued.

"Yes, but..." she prompted.

"He...could...be...too...big to help you, or something."

"Castle," she told him in a reasonable tone, "there is absolutely nothing wrong with Colin."

"Colin, schmolin. His name sounds like he should be in a boy band or something," he said with derision.

"You told me earlier that you're good with words. I'm still waiting to see evidence of that right now," she said dryly.

He gave an exasperated huff. "It's just...he looks like a football player."

"And you have something against football players all of a sudden?" she prompted.

"No. I like football," he confirmed

"Maybe I'm just not getting why you don't like him then. And why it matters if he's built like a football player or not." He didn't say anything for several seconds, so she prompted again, "Well?"

"He's big, and he has all of those...muscles...and he's not very old. Beckett, how do you really know if this guy is any good? I mean, he might be young and...eager...or something. Too eager. Because he's young. And he was just always..." He trailed off, and she looked at him expectantly.

"By all means, don't stop now. He was always what, Castle?"

"Nothing."

"No, what? If there's some reason that you don't feel confident with him being my therapist, I really would like to know."

"He's just...he had his hands all over you! His very muscular hands, I might add."

"He did not! Well, not _all over_ me. But he's my therapist, Castle, so he's supposed to touch my leg anyway." Then she laid a hand on his shoulder. "Rick, are you jealous?" He didn't say anything, but she saw that he was still endearingly bothered by the thought of her young, muscular therapist. "Pull over, Rick."

"Huh?"

"Pull over." He shot her a strange look, but then he spotted a space ahead of them and did indeed pull the SUV over to the side of the road.

When he'd stopped, he looked at her and said "Okay, what?"

But instead of answering him, she just leaned over and, bracing an arm on the console in between them, grabbed the back of his neck with her other hand and pulled him into a kiss. After teasing and nipping at his lips for a minute or two, she pulled back and said, "Now, are you jealous?"

He looked at her a little dazed from the kiss, but answered, "Yeah, kind of. But that was nice." He gave her a little smile.

"Rick, he's my therapist. He's supposed to touch me."

"But he didn't need to touch you _that_ much!"

"Yes, he did, and he explained all of that to us, and you should remember it because you insisted on coming in to the exam room with me." She took a deep breath. "But hunky football player or not, I'm still going home with you, right? No, don't answer that. The correct answers are 'Right, Kate', 'I'm being an idiot, Kate,' and 'Of course, Kate.' So Rick, don't worry about Colin."

He gazed at her in grudging acceptance and then leaned his head against the steering wheel. "Okay, but it's going to be hard when I think about you with Mr. Adonis."

"Good, Castle." And then feeling a little evil, she paused for effect before she said, "But doesn't he have the most beautiful brown eyes?"

His gaze whipped back to hers. "_What_?"

"Nothing." She smiled sweetly at him and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Come on, Rick. Let's go home. Uh...back to the loft, I mean," she corrected quickly.

He gave her a look, but then he pulled back out into traffic. He didn't say anything for the rest of the time until he parked at his building, and then just made small talk all the way up to his apartment. But when they got inside of his loft and he'd shut the door, he grabbed Kate (as best as he could without totally dislodging the crutches) and pulled her to him, covering her mouth with his. He kissed her ferociously, working his mouth over hers. She didn't seem to mind from what he could tell; one of her arms came up right away around his neck to pull him closer to her. They stood there right inside the door, kissing breathlessly until both of them registered the sound of a clearing throat, obviously an attempt to alert the smooching couple to another presence in the room. They broke apart, and Rick's eyes went toward the living room, where he saw a person rise casually from the couch. He couldn't believe his eyes.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked the visitor in a steely tone, as Kate looked on as she really and truly wished she could hide.

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><p><em><strong>Well, that's it for now. It turned out longer than I expected it to.<strong>_

_**Thanks to the wonderful people who have been consistent reviewers so far for this story: Amybf19, Ariel119, Tazman, LittleLizzieZentara, MarkC, Marine-CO, NazGuzman, Monkeywand, gmay, MTAM, I'm Widget, Tango Mike Charlie, BlueTigress and Bella Paige. If I forgot anyone, I apologize. I appreciate each and every review, and I thank you and appreciate you very much when you take the time to let me know what you thought of a chapter. That is what helps me improve and know what people like and don't like, so please keep passing on your thoughts.**_

_**Thank you for reading.**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Wow...thank you so much, reviewers, for the wonderful response to Chapter 4! Traffic had been way down for the previous two chapters and I wondered if my writing was getting too cliche and predictable. But I guess not! So thank you again...you have given me renewed enthusiasm to forge ahead with what I have planned for this story.**_

_**By the way, if anyone follows (American) football, specifically the awesome (and currently undefeated!) Green Bay Packers, I sort of had a certain young, blond, long-haired wonderful defensive player in my mind when thinking about Colin, the physical therapist from the last chapter. After the Super Bowl, there was a cute interview that he had on Ellen (it's on youtube). NazGuman (thanks for the wonderful review, BTW) has already requested that I write more about Colin, so if anyone else would like me to expand on Colin in future chapters (for a little bit of humor/Castle jealousy, perhaps something like Hans from 'The Plan') just let me know and I can certainly try to work it in.**_

_**Disclaimers: I own nothing; it all belongs to ABC and the esteemed creators.**_

_**Now, for a little happy dance of my own...I stumped all of you! Well, all of you who tried to guess, anyway! But thanks for trying to guess! I suppose I'm doing my 'job' right if I managed to stump you. (ETA: there was one person who sort of guessed in a very recent review, but I think it was more a function of naming everyone that it possibly could be...LOL No1castlefan.) Read on for more info...**_

* * *

><p><em>Previously: <em>

_Rick and Kate try to keep their new relationship a secret from the boys at the precinct. Newfound closeness that they're not even aware of threatens to out them before they're ready. Kate has a PT appointment, and Castle gets jealous of her new 'Adonis' physical therapist, who he said 'had his hands all over' her. When they finally get back to the loft, he sweeps her into a kiss as soon as they are inside the door, but they are interrupted by an unexpected visitor who is waiting in the loft for them._

_~~They stood there right inside the door, kissing breathlessly until both of them registered the sound of a clearing throat, obviously an attempt to alert the smooching couple to another presence in the room. They broke apart, and Rick's eyes went toward the living room, where he saw a person rise casually from the couch. He couldn't believe his eyes._

_"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked the visitor in a steely tone, as Kate looked on as she really and truly wished she could hide.~~ _

Kate felt Rick squeeze her arms briefly for reassurance before he let go of her and walked over to stand in front of his apparently unwelcome visitor. She saw his face turn steely, which was an unusual look for him.

Before he could say anything the woman got an amused, cat-that-ate-the-canary look on her face as she said, "Well, well, well, Ricky boy! Locking lips with the muse, and I'd say quite a heated locking of the lips, from what I could see. So tell, me, Rick, is that more book research? Or something else? Huh? Is life now imitating art?"

"Paula, I will thank you to keep your comments about anything you have just seen to yourself. You are here...why the hell are you here anyway? Didn't have anything better to do so you decided to crash my _private_ home and annoy me with your observations of my _private_ life?"

"Tsk tsk, Rick. Getting a little bit testy, are we?" His steely look didn't waver, but Paula had a thick enough skin where a steely look didn't really faze her much. "And I wouldn't have had to interrupt your precious private home or life, as you put it, if you would ever bother to take my damn phone calls. But now," Paula cast a raised-eyebrow glance over at Kate, who was now making her way over toward the kitchen, "I can at least see the apparent reason for why you felt the need to ditch me and sink into a black hole of non-communication."

"I've been busy," Rick responded, with annoyance now added to the steely edge to his voice. "And in case you've forgotten, everything was shut down for several days because of the blizzard."

"This is New York, Rick! A blizzard isn't going to stop this city, and it's hardly an excuse for you either. Besides, you were ignoring me for more than a full week before the snow demons from hell decided to unleash their slushy wrath on this city."

Kate had made her way over to the kitchen while Rick was arguing with his agent, needing to get out of the immediate vicinity of the both of them, and hopefully off of Paula's radar. To say this was an uncomfortable situation was putting it mildly. She hopped over to the refrigerator to grab something to drink and maybe see what she could make for dinner. Because if she had it pegged right, Paula wouldn't be leaving anytime soon. And she was starting to get hungry.

"We had a case!" Kate could hear Rick protest.

"No, you didn't," Paula countered. "_You_ are a novelist. You write. _She_," Paula said, stabbing a scarlet-tipped finger in Kate's direction, "is the cop. _She_ has cases." So much for getting off of Paula's radar, Kate thought. "And _you_ had damn well better be returing my phone calls, because _I_ am the one who manages your _real_ job, the one that you get money from. You don't ignore me to go on a playdate with her." She turned her head and shot an assessing stare at Kate, one that wasn't altogether complimentary. "Although after seeing what I just did when you walked in the door, I think I have a good idea of just what those playdates might have entailed," she said smugly.

Rick, normally unflappable, looked like he was ready to commit murder, Kate thought. And actually, with the woman insinuating that Kate was Rick's little sex toy, she thought he might have a case for justifiable homicide, at least as far as she was concerned. Rick shot her an apologetic glance very quickly, but then he walked closer to Paula with fire in his eyes. His voice was low, but Kate could still hear him. "I will say this once more, Paula. Kate is off-limits. My relationship with her is off-limits. No comments about it, to me or to anyone else. It is nobody's business but mine and Kate's, and I will not stand by quietly while you make unfounded insinuations as to my motives, how I spend my time, or with whom I choose to spend that time. Now if you have something that you want to discuss with me, I will give you thirty minutes. In my office. And if one more comment is made regarding Kate or my family, then the meeting is done. Got it?"

Paula stood staring at Rick for a full ten seconds, during which his intent gaze never wavered. Then the agent hitched up her chin a notch and narrowed her eyes, and without a word, turned and stalked into Rick's office.

Before he left to follow Paula he glanced over toward the kitchen, where Kate was leaning forward on the counter on her forearms, looking at him curiously. This was a new side of him; she usually didn't see him angry. He was controlled and he was serious, which were also unusual, but he was definitely angry. He walked over to her, grabbing her hands from the other side of the counter. But as he did that, she could see the anger drain out of his face, and he seemed to be holding her hands as if they were some sort of a lifeline.

"Sorry about that. All of it. I didn't know..." He shook his head and she knew that he was genuinely sorry.

"...that she'd be here?" Yeah, I kind of figured that out. Have you really been avoiding her calls though?"

"Well, I...uh..." he stammered.

"You have," she said, shaking her head. The urge for an eyeroll was high. "Although I really can't blame you," she admitted.

"You guys are more fun!" he said, almost whining. "She just wants to talk to me about contracts and book signings and tours and boring career stuff."

Now _that_ was the Rick that she knew. But he had his viper of an agent waiting in his office, so she knew he couldn't stand there and talk with her-and further avoid Paula-any longer. "But you do have to do that 'boring career stuff' now, like it or not. You do that, and I'll try to scrounge up something to eat, okay?"

He looked surprised and blurted out, "But can you-"

"Yes, Castle. I'm sure I can get us something to eat for dinner. I sat all day. Crutches or not, it will feel good to get up and move around. Now go!" She pulled her hands away from his and pointed toward his office. Despite the wounded puppy dog look he gave her, he still turned and shuffled off toward the office.

The man was nothing if not entertaining, she thought as she resumed looking around the kitchen to see what she could make for dinner.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Well, I should probably go upstairs now. I have a bunch of reading to do, and then I'll probably just go to bed. Um...will you be okay? Do you need anything?" Alexis sounded hesitant to leave Kate alone, like she had to take care of Kate in her father's absence.

"Alexis, I swear, sometimes you're so much like your father that it's kind of eerie." She smiled at the girl sitting across from her in the living room. She and Alexis had eaten together and had spent the evening talking, flipping through channels on the TV, and going through some of her French homework, and still the father of record had yet to make an appearance.

Hours ago, about twenty minutes after Rick had disappeared grudgingly into his office after Paula, Alexis had come through the door. She'd greeted Kate, who was puttering in the kitchen, but had looked puzzled when she didn't see her father.

Kate explained simply, "He's in his office. Paula dropped by."

"Uh oh. Has he been avoiding her again?"

Kate's head jerked up. "Apparently. How did you know?"

Alexis shrugged. "Happens every so often. How long have they been in there?" she asked, bobbing her head toward the office.

"Your dad gave her thirty minutes. They probably have five or ten left of that."

"Five or ten? Yeah, right. Kate," Alexis told her as she walked over and gently patted Kate's shoulder with a knowing air, "you should know that if Paula gets ahold of him, he generally doesn't reappear anytime soon."

"You don't think so? I don't know...he wasn't particularly happy with Paula. She was here when we got back. Which acutally makes me wonder...I'd originally thought you might have let her in. But obviously you weren't here. So how did she get in?"

"Gram probably let her in. But you know, Paula has a way of not really giving up. She won't leave until she's ready, no matter what Dad thinks."

"Really..." Kate said.

"Uh huh."

"I almost hate to ask, but if she does this type of thing fairly often, then with as upset as your dad was, why does he keep her around? Why doesn't he just find a new agent? He doesn't seem like the type of person who would continue working with someone who bugged him."

Alexis started to answer, but then both of their heads whipped around to look at the closed door of the office when they heard Rick's shout of _"You want me to do what?"_ coming through the door.

Kate and Alexis turned around to look at each other. "Is _that_ normal?" Kate asked Alexis.

"Well...uh...sometimes I can hear Paula; I mean, she does have kind of shrill voice sometimes. But Dad...he sounded kind of...mad." Her eyes flitted back and forth worriedly between Kate and the closed office door. "I've never heard him sound like that before with her."

Kate could see that after hearing her father's exclamation through the closed door, Alexis was now more concerned about what was going on. "I'm sure your dad's fine. And hey, they both know I carry a gun, so I doubt they'll get out of line." She tried to reassure the girl, letting her words sink in for a moment before she smiled and took a bag of pasta out of the cupboard. "We still need to eat something. Wanna help?"

So they worked together to make a quick dinner, ate, cleaned up and then retired to the living room. Alexis was correct in her assessment that it would take a lot longer than the thirty minutes that Rick had originally given to Paula. They heard a few more exclamations coming out of the office, all from Rick, and both of them were quite curious to know what was going on, although they both silently agreed that they weren't going to do anything to interrupt whatever it was that was going on in there.

So when Alexis asked her if she'd be okay, Kate almost felt like laughing. When Kate made the comment about Alexis being like her father, she saw the confusion in the girl's eyes. "Yeah, for the most part, you two are pretty different. But every once in a while, like with what you just asked me, you're eerily similar." She still looked at Kate quizzically, so Kate added, "It just sounded like your dad, you know, when he keeps asking me how I'm doing, how my ankle is, if I need anything..."

"Oh, my gosh!" Alexis chirped. "I didn't realize, oh...sorry." She'd never meant to insult her dad's new girlfriend; she knew Kate was independent and she knew how it had annoyed Kate when her dad was so hoveringly attentive.

"Not a problem, Alexis. I just don't want you to feel like you have to entertain me. If you need to study or read, then you do that. And don't worry, if I need help, I'll ask for it. And thanks for offering."

"What about...them?" Alexis asked, bobbing her head toward the study like she had earlier. "They've been in there for hours."

"Well, I don't smell any blood yet, so it doesn't look like I'll have to arrest your father for murder," Kate quipped.

"That's good, although it wouldn't be the first time" Alexis responded automatically, knowing that Kate had already arrested him a couple of times. But then her brows furrowed and she said, "You can _smell _blood?"

Oh, great, Kate thought, too much information and the wrong kind of information for an inquisitive teenager. "I...uh...I'm sorry, Alexis, I shouldn't have said that. I've been at a lot of crime scenes in my career and..." she trailed off, but then decided to just honestly answer the question as quickly as possible. "But yeah, you can."

"Oh. Okay." Thankfully, the girl let the subject drop, although for a moment, Kate did think that she was going to start asking her questions. They bid each other goodnight, and before Alexis left, she leaned over and gave Kate a quick hug, which took Kate by surprise. But then she was off the couch and up the stairs, and Kate was alone again, but still surprised by the sudden, but not unpleasant, hug from Castle's daughter. She checked messages on her phone for a few minutes, and then she took to flipping through some of the more obscure cable channels on the TV.

She still held her finger on the button of the remote when the door of the office burst open and Paula came striding purposefully out. She spared a quick look in Kate's direction, telling her offhandedly, "I see nothing." And then she was out the door.

Kate threw down the remote and was about to go search for Rick when he came out of the office, looking like he'd just been up for two days straight. He walked over to her and collapsed down on the couch by her, pushing his fingers through his hair and closing his eyes as he leaned back on the couch. "Wow. Please tell me she's really gone?"

"Yeah. Saw her leave myself."

"Thank you. Will you pinch me to convince me that I haven't just become the victim of 'Death by Agent'?

She only hesitated for a moment, but in a bold move that she wasn't entirely sure she should do, especially after Paula's earlier remarks, she leaned toward him and touched her lips to his in a kiss, using one of her hands to caress his jaw lightly. When he registered what she was doing, she could feel the smile of his under her lips, so she pulled away to look at him, telling him, "I thought that would be a little better than a pinch."

His eyes flew open. "Much better. But don't stop now," he told her, taking one of his hands from his hair to transfer it to the back of her head as he pulled her back for another kiss. He wasn't smiling anymore for this second kiss, and neither was she as they deepened it slightly and just enjoyed it, until they were interrupted by the sound of Rick's stomach growling.

She pulled away and let out a laugh, telling him, "Alexis and I ate a long time ago, sometime around the time you said you _should_ be out. But there are some leftovers in the fridge."

"You're a wonderful woman," he said with relief, sounding like he was in awe of her for simply making sure that he had some leftovers to eat. "I'm going to go grab-" he began to say as he started to rise from the couch, but then he stopped short as his eyes traveled to the TV. "Kate, what in the world are you watching?"

Kate's head whipped around to the TV. She honestly didn't know what was showing on the TV at this point; she'd been flipping channels when Paula had walked out, and her attention had been shifted away from the TV so she had no idea which station it had finally ended up on, and the volume was muted so she hadn't heard anything. And when her eyes found the TV again and she saw what was playing, her eyes got big and her jaw fell open in shock.

Because there, on Castle's insanely large high-definition television, were a man and a woman in all of their naked glory, in the throes of apparent ecstacy. The camera panned around them as the buxom woman sat spread-eagle on the man, undulating her hips and...

Kate just stared in shock for a few very long seconds as the woman threw back her head and closed her eyes. She didn't even realize Rick's face next to her as he whispered in her ear, "I actually do know what that is, so I guess the more appropriate question would be...You must have _really_ missed me tonight, huh?"

Her face turned quickly to find him smirking at her, but then she reached to her side to grab the remote off the couch, hitting the power switch for the TV as fast as she could. As the picture disappeared, she stammered, "I...wha...No! That was...I was NOT watching that! I was scanning...and then Paula...after she left I just threw the remote down...then you came..." Uh, oh. Bad choice of words, which she knew as soon as the last word left her mouth.

And he realized it too, from the look of the devilish grin on his face. "Well, not yet, but if you'd like to work on that with me..." he suggested.

She felt her jaw drop at his innuendo, but she decided to continue with her defense. "No, you..._walked out of the office_ then and I never even looked to see what was on the TV. God, Castle, I would not watch porno in your house! Alexis was just down here!" And then she realized something, something that the last words that she spoke made her realize. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Castle! Wanna tell me why you have a porno station where your daughter can run across it? Do you really want her to see that? What about if her boyfriend visits and they're scanning through channels and they run across _that_?"

The thought of his daughter seeing the adult station-especially with her boyfriend-had the same effect on him as dousing him with a bucket of ice water would have. The smirk dropped off his face and his eyes widened comically. "I...sometimes there are new channels...I'm going to call my service provider..." It was obviously his turn to stammer as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, obviously intending to call the company right then and there.

Kate placed a hand on his arm. "It can wait until the morning. She's just doing some reading now." But man, he was fun to mess with, and she needed to get her power back after he'd surprised her before, so she added reasonably, "Anyway, I don't think she's upstairs clandestinely taking notes on positions or anything." But just when she didn't think his eyes could get any wider, they did, as he imagined the implications of her words.

Then he saw the smirk on her face, and his eyes narrowed as he regarded her. "I'm going to go warm up my dinner now. And just for that comment, I'm not even going to ask you if you want anything to drink," he said with a smug tone before getting up with a harrumph to walk into the kitchen.

After he left, she began to wonder just what that certain channel was, so she could make sure to avoid it like the plague until he got it taken off of his TV. Because just the little glimpse that she had was giving her some entirely inappropriate ideas regarding the cute guy pouting in the kitchen. Ideas which were the complete antithesis of the word 'slow'. And if she wanted to keep this...thing...between them going slowly, she knew she'd have to keep those visions out of her mind. Because those visions were way too distracting and tempting.

She was lost in her thoughts about not thinking about him (which she realized sounded a lot like that morning in the station when she told him to focus on not focusing on her) when she felt him sink down on the couch side of her again, plate of food in hand.

"So how did the meeting with Paula go?" she asked him in an attempt to find a new, more neutral topic, and also because she really wanted to know why he took hours longer than he'd seemingly intended to, and what the agent was going to do about what she'd witnessed between them.

"It was long and excruciating."

"Rick, clear something up for me, okay?" He nodded as he shoveled food into his mouth. "She barged in here, uninvited. She cornered you. Now I'm not saying you don't deserve some of that for avoiding her, but you gave her thirty minutes and you were in with her for several hours. If she's that bad, why don't you find a new agent, one you actually like? One who doesn't ambush you in your home?" And one who won't make snarky comments about your love life, she added silently to herself.

He took a few bites of his food and she could see that he was figuring out what to say. "I keep her around because no matter how much of a shrew she is to deal with, I have to remember that she's even worse-for others, that is-when she's working _for_ me. My last book deal? When I was ready to accept the deal, she got me twenty percent more by just being her charming self." The sarcasm in his voice was evident. "The woman can negotiate like nobody's business. She's the proverbial business shark. She's one of _the_ best in the business. So to have her on my side...it's worth it." And he filled his mouth with another bite of pasta.

She nodded. It did make a certain strange amount of sense. "Alexis and I heard some rather interesting things coming out of your office. Things you didn't sound all that happy about. Care to share what happened in there?"

She saw he was surprised by the question as his eyes met her briefly, but then the careless look was back just as fast and he shrugged. "Nothing, really. Just some things I have to work out, timing-wise, with my volunteer homicide detective duties at the precinct. But hey, that was a pretty good rhyme you did. I'm impressed."

He was trying to be very nonchalant about it, but she could see something else in his eyes, in the posture of his body. He was a good poker player, but she was getting better at reading him, especially after being with him pretty much all the time for the last several days. And she wasn't going to gloss over it. "Sorry, Rick, but I don't buy it. If something is going on, I'd like you to tell me about it. It's obvious that it's bothering you. And if we're...you know...dating, then to some degree it will affect me too. So spill," she ordered.

By that point, he had finished what was on his plate, so he leaned forward and set it down on the table before taking one of her hands in his. "It's nothing, really." But then he saw her look, a look that told him that she didn't want to be brushed off. "Look, Paula was just spouting a lot of crap and she got on my last nerve. And after being ambushed into that living hell of a meeting when I was just looking forward to spending the evening with you, I _really_ don't even want to think about it anymore now." He squeezed her hand. "Okay?"

"I don't know. I don't like someone that I'm...dating...to be keeping secrets from me. Is it something about Paula knowing about our new relationship?"

He waved his free hand as he leaned back again on the couch, pulling her to lean against him. "No. I'm confident there won't be any problems with that. Paula may be my agent, but that's for my professional life, and only my professional life. I made it crystal clear to her that if she comments on or interferes in my personal life in any way, then our professional association will be terminated immediately."

Kate pulled away from him so she could turn to look at his face. After what he'd said about her being the best, she didn't understand... "Terminated? Why? You said she's the best, and I know you always like to have the best."

He saw her puzzled look. He was still holding her hand, and he brought it to his lips for a quick kiss. "I already have the best," he said softly and sincerely, tugging her back toward him, "I have the best daughter in the world and the best girlfriend in the world." He put his arm around her and gave her a squeeze. "I have the best job and the best volunteer job and the best partner. And I only said Paula was _one_ of the best. If she can't respect my family, then she won't be the best for _me_ anymore." He paused for a moment. "Kate, I saw the look on your face when you saw her, and when she started making those comments. I never want to be the cause of having that look cross your face again."

Her head was spinning at what he'd just said. The best girlfriend? He'd put her right after Alexis in his list. They'd barely been officially dating for a couple of days, and during that time, she'd yelled at him, had become annoyed with him, and had worried him when she'd gone downstairs and had ended up talking to Rafi and Junior. How could he say she was the best? And how could he list her right after Alexis in presumed importance? And now he was acutally talking about firing his agent-one he said that was one of the best in the business-because she'd made some comments toward Kate? That was...how could he do that? How could he say that? They'd only been together a matter of days! She felt like she needed to say something, but she deemed herself too chicken to ask him the questions that were plaguing her mind. So instead, she told him, "You weren't the cause. Paula said it," she whispered automatically, still reeling by what he'd said.

"Yes, Paula may have said it, but she was here and exposed to you because of me. And what she said to you wasn't right."

"It's okay, Castle; I'm a big girl," she told him.

"But it's not right," he repeated for emphasis. "And you're in my home, and she's essentially employed by me. So that's my responsibility. And even more than that, nobody should talk to you like that. We're not anything like what she was saying. And I don't want you to feel uncomfortable about us; there's no reason for it. So I just took steps to ensure that she won't bother you. No big deal."

But it _was _a big deal; couldn't he see that? Threatening to fire the agent that he'd had for years because she made some insinuations toward Kate? That was just...that was...

It was sweet. Finally, it came to her. He was defending her honor. He felt responsible for her being somewhat insulted, and he was doing his best to defend her honor. It was a little annoying to her, the mere concept of him trying to fight the battles for her, but overall, because she was out of her element in this world-_his_ world-she found it easier to just accept his chivalry.

She was glad she wasn't looking at him right now, because after his comments, she was almost scared to look at him. She knew how intense he could be sometimes, and she didn't know if she could handle that intensity right after hearing that he viewed her as 'the best', not two days after agreeing to date but to take things slowly. It was such a simple word, but the way he said it...it held so much more meaning. 'Slowly' meant that he should be describing her as 'fun' or 'cool' at this point. He shouldn't be using superlatives like 'the best'; certainly a descriptor that left no wiggle room for anything better. He was saying...oh, she didn't want to think about what he was saying. Not with that sincere voice, not with that little squeeze that he'd just given her.

So Kate just laid against him, and tried to think what 'slowly' meant. She was certain that it didn't mean the way she was feeling now. She was certain it didn't mean what she was hearing from his words. But she relaxed into his embrace a little more, just because she felt like it, and she felt his lips brush the side of her head in a light kiss. She knew she should say something, but she didn't know exactly what to say. She had a way of sticking her foot in her mouth lately, and she didn't want to do that now. So she kept quiet and just enjoyed the moments here with him.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

His chest felt cold. That was the first thought that Rick had upon waking up sprawled on the couch. The last thing he remembered was talking with Kate and pulling her against him on the couch, and leaning back to just savor the feeling of being with Kate after the hellish several hours with Paula. And then thoughts of the future hell that she was lobbying for in the name of his career flitted back into his mind. But it wasn't a done deal yet, so that was good.

But now Kate was gone, and with a glance at the clock on the wall, he could see it was late. After tossing and turning the night before, he needed to get some sleep now. He rose from the couch and sleepily padded his way into his bedroom, going all the way through his room to use the bathroom. After stripping and pulling on some pajama pants, he made his way back to the bedroom and on a mission to get some sleep, he crawled into his bed.

But he was jolted awake when he felt the warm body already in his bed. And everything came back to him then-Kate was staying in his room and he was staying upstairs until she could walk better. But he was so tired; he didn't want to trudge all the way upstairs, not now. He still had the alarm set on his phone from the previous morning...maybe he could just sleep there for a few hours? He looked down at Kate's sleeping form and tried to justify staying. He _would _sleep better. He knew that. Not to mention the fact that he just plain wanted to. He checked the ringer on his phone and found that it was in the 'wake the dead' decibel range. He double-checked the times and the AM/PMs, and found that they were all right, so he knew he could move to the guest room before Alexis was up.

The prospect of a few hours of blissful sleep next to Kate was such a temptation. Even if it was only sleep. And it was a temptation he knew he couldn't-and didn't want to-resist. He'd love more-who wouldn't?-but he knew that she wanted to go slowly, and he didn't want to do anything to sabotage that relationship comfort zone that she'd established, that he knew she needed for her own peace of mind. All previous innuendo notwithstanding, of course, because that just didn't count. So for right now, sleep it was, and he would be happy for that, as long as it was next to her.

So he gave into that temptation and slid between the rich imported cotton sheets, trying not to disturb Kate, but trying to get close enough to feel her next to him. Just as he'd settled down, he felt the bed shift and heard a sleepy voice say, "Castle?"

"Yeah," he whispered. "Alarm is set, ringer is turned up. Go back to sleep."

"Mmm...'kay," she murmured, but surprised him when she turned over on her side, toward him, and flopped an arm over his chest. And he couldn't resist the grin that overtook his mouth as he settled back into the pillows and closed his eyes.

* * *

><p><em><strong>It got long, longer than I intended. Sorry this wasn't posted earlier; I had no internet connection for most of the long holiday weekend in the US. But I hope you enjoyed the chapter anyway, even though it was slightly delayed. I've plotted out more specifically where this story is going, and I'm psyched to write it. I love what I've plotted out, and I think everyone else will too; now I hope that I can do the ideas justice when I write them out.<strong>_

_**I've been contemplating doing a one-shot based on the upcoming episode, 'Cuffed'. I haven't been able to do a lot of reading lately so I have no idea if the fandom is being inundated with 'Cuffed' stories, so if anyone has any thoughts on if I should or shouldn't, I'd welcome your opinion.**_

_**And although it's a bit late, I hope all of my US readers had a very pleasant Thanksgiving holiday. **_

_**Comments are always very much appreciated! After spending several days, on and off, writing the chapter, it's a wonderful feeling to get that feedback from those who are reading it. And really, your comments are the **__**only**__** feedback I generally receive to let me know if I'm on the right track or not, and what I need to improve. So again, I truly appreciate the time you take to let me know what you think.**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**I'm back with another chapter. Hope you enjoy it!**_

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing about these characters. I just enjoy the shows and wish that we could have a new episode every week.**_

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><p>Kate awoke to her alarm blaring noisily from the table side of the bed. She was wrapped around a large, fluffy pillow, hugging it tightly. As she became cognizant of the alarm and the fact that it was morning, she untangled herself from around the pillow and reached over toward the alarm. Finding that she was farther toward the other side of the bed than she thought she was, she scooted toward the bedside table, all the while wondering how it could possibly be six a.m. already. She'd slept so soundly, so comfortably. After turning the alarm off, she laid there in Castle's big bed for a few minutes, trying to wake herself up and get her mind ready for a new day. She almost couldn't believe how relaxed she felt.<p>

When she realized she was in danger of falling back to sleep in the big bed, she reluctantly made herself get up. Grabbing her crutches, she got up and started hopping out to the kitchen. She may feel relaxed now, but she still needed her morning caffeine fix.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Rick awoke in the guest bedroom to the Star Wars theme playing from his phone. It was actually the second time he'd awakened that morning; the first was when he had a silly dream about laser tag guns shooting globs of chocolate chip cookie dough at little bunnies that were reading books and sitting on snow-covered ladders, like some sort of bizarre carnival arcade game. The dream was just strange enough to cause his eyelids to jerk open. Once he realized that the bunnies were a figment of his dream-imagination, he realized the time: about an hour before his alarm was set to go off. So as much as he would have preferred to stay in his bed with Kate wrapped around him as she was, he figured that since he was already awake, it would make more sense to just get up now to go to sleep the rest of the night in the guest room. And then Kate could continue to sleep peacefully without being woken up by his alarm.

So he eased out from under her arm and replaced his body with one of the fluffy pillows. After he gave her a light kiss on her forehead, he stole quietly out of his room and up the stairs to the guest room. After resetting his alarm, he did manage to fall back asleep, but it just wasn't the same in a different bed, without the beautiful human body warmer that he'd had downstairs.

When he finally did wake up and venture downstairs, he found Kate in the kitchen, standing over a steaming frying pan, tending to what looked like scrambled eggs. The smell of coffee was in the air, and he smiled, thinking of how much nicer it was to be greeted with this sight, knowing that she had made the coffee, as opposed to an empty kitchen and coffee made from a preset timer.

She looked up and greeted him with a smile, which he needed no encouragement to return. He walked over to her and lowered his face to give her a kiss, but, knowing what he was after, she shrank away, saying, "Morning breath, Castle."

"Mine or yours? 'Cause I don't care if it's yours." And he proved that by swooping in and stealing a kiss on the corner of her mouth before she could turn away. "Mmm...you taste like coffee. And good morning," he said with a disarming Castle grin.

"Either, maybe _I_ care, and I'm on my second cup, so duh," she responded, in order, to his comments as she finished stirring the eggs and tried to ignore his disarming Castle grin.

As he poured himself a cup of coffee, he asked innocently, "Did you sleep well?" He knew full well that she had slept quite soundly, but he wanted to see what she said.

"Actually," she said, taking a quick sip of her coffee, "I really did." She still looked a little puzzled by the whole thing, as if the concept of sleeping that soundly was foreign to her. "I almost didn't want to get up this morning. I was really comfortable." Then she remembered the previous night, and how Castle had fallen asleep on the couch. "And how did you sleep? How much of the night did you spend on the couch?"

She didn't know, he thought incredulously. She didn't remember? He looked at her, trying to figure out if she was playing him, but he didn't think she was. She was just sipping her coffee, tending to the eggs, and looking at him like they were having a normal morning conversation. He'd spent a good deal of the night with her, in the same bed, with her curled around him like a soft Beckett-boa. But she didn't seem to remember any of it! _He'd_ had a good night, cuddled up with her like they were, but apparently it wasn't very memorable for _her_. He almost felt a little bit put out by that thought. But she was expecting an answer, so he shrugged and said, "I slept wonderfully, thank you, and I apparently wasn't on the couch that long. No kinks in the neck or anything. Of course, I've used that couch for many-a-powernap, so my body is not altogether unfamiliar with it." For some reason, he evaded the issue of where he'd actually spent a good portion of the night. She didn't seem to remember him crawling into his bed with her, so why run the risk of making her uncomfortable when there didn't seem to be any point?

She nodded, and then reached for the plates that she'd already taken out of the cupboard. She prompted him, "Toast?" and he set to work getting some toast ready while she plated some of the eggs. "We need bacon," she told him. "I would have made some to go with the eggs, but there wasn't any in the fridge."

"Just make a list and I'll get whatever we need."

She didn't realize it until he responded, but her comment made it sound like she lived there; like she had the right to buy food. Like they were discussing a grocery list, like a cohabitating couple. _We_ need bacon. No, she thought to herself, _she_ of the _we_ didn't need anything except her building's elevator to be fixed because it was obvious that she was getting too comfortable here, if she was starting to randomly cook and make grocery lists. Feeling self-conscious and silly in her realizations, she huffed out a sigh as she sat down to eat her breakfast.

"What was that for?" Castle asked her, his brows knitted together.

"What?"

"The..." He did a little imitation of her huff, and then explained, "And your brows are all crinkled in that cute little way they get when you're frustrated about something. If it's bacon, then tell me the kind you want and I'll get it. Maple-flavored? No, I bet you're a turkey bacon kind of girl. Or you know, we could get those little sausage links-"

"Castle, it's not bacon. There's nothing wrong with bacon. I suggested it, didn't I?" Her voice now obviously held that frustrated tone.

"Um...yeah." He took a quick bite of his eggs. "So what's the problem then?"

"What makes you think there's a problem?"

"Kate..." he said in the way that only Castle could muster, letting her know that he was on to her and he wasn't going to let her hide.

"It's nothing. It's just that I must have slept a little _too_ comfortably last night. Because I'm just staying with you for a few days and I'm already making meals and planning grocery lists." She sounded somewhat disgusted with herself, and she punctuated her statement by taking an angry bite of her piece of toast.

"Huh? You told me I need bacon. So we'll get bacon. It's not any different than if we're out of milk. Or, God forbid, coffee."

"Milk and coffee are staples. Bacon is not."

"So?"

She shook her head in exasperation. "Castle, the point is that I don't _live_ here. I shouldn't be suggesting what food to buy."

"Why not? You're going to eat it too," he said reasonably.

She shook her head, taking another bite of her eggs. After swallowing, she asked him, "Look, can you do something for me?"

He thought about it for a minute, and then he gave her a conditional "Maybe." He knew Beckett well enough to know that he shouldn't just blindly agree to something when she was like this.

She rolled her eyes at his response. "If I forget, could you just remind later to call Mr. Peterson? You know, my Super? I want to check on the status of the repairs and find out when I can go back to my apartment."

He looked a little crestfallen at the thought. "Oh. Well. Yes, I can remind you, but Kate, you don't need to worry about it, really. It's just a little bit of food. And I..." he stopped and shrugged, giving her a little smile that she thought made him look cute with his messed up morning hair. "I like having you here," he admitted.

He looked so cute that she couldn't resist reaching over and smoothing some of the spikes that made his hair look adorably goofy. "I like being here too, Rick. But the problem is that I think maybe I like it a little too much."

He loved the spontaneous touch and he made no move to stop her from doing it. But he wasn't following her. "Problem? That doesn't sound like a problem at all. I like you here, you like being here. What's the problem?"

"Rick, I cooked breakfast. I came out of _your_ bedroom in _your_ home, and I just went about making us breakfast without even thinking about it. And then I'm telling you what you need to buy at the grocery store. I'm...settling in, or something. It just hit me when you told me to make a list. It was so normal, like we do this all the time. But we _don't_. I don't live here! Yet I'm _living_ with you and we barely just started dating. Castle, we're supposed to be taking this whole thing slowly, right?" He shrugged and nodded in agreement. "Then I shouldn't be living with you and walking around your home like I own the place! And I shouldn't be so damn comfortable while I'm doing it!"

He gave her a 'duh' look. "Kate, first of all, finish your eggs before they get cold. Cold eggs are barf-worthy." He waited until she complied and took a bite. "Second, I wouldn't necessarily say that you're living with me. Well, not in the sense that you have to worry about it. When one talks about two people 'living together'," he said as he made air quotes with his fingers as he uttered the words, "it usually refers to them...you know. And we, uh, haven't. Yet. Not that I'd mind, of course, but..." He saw her glare at his clarification, and then continued. "Yeah, I know. Not slow. But anyway, you're merely staying here. And your apartment is, for all intents and purposes, unaccessible. Strange circumstances. I have a spare room-"

"Which I am _not_ using," she reminded him.

"No, but I'll use the same excuse as your apartment with that part of it. And I don't mind sleeping in the guest room. Of course, I'd _rather_ sleep with you..."

"Castle!" she warned him, lowering her voice. "Alexis...remember? What if she walks in hears you talking about sleeping with me?"

"Fine," he acknowledged, lowering his voice too. "But I'm not even talking about..._that_. I just mean sleeping next to you, like last-" He almost said 'last night', but then caught himself when he realized that she didn't remember him slipping into bed with her for a good portion of the night, and it wouldn't really be a good idea to bring up that little tidbit now. "-Week. In the Hamptons. During the blizzard. Nothing happened then, right? Nice and slow."

"Plenty happened, Castle. Or have you forgotten already?" she asked him in a suddenly sultry voice that had him doing a double take. "Sorry," she apologized with a smile. "Just couldn't resist. But yes, fine. Nothing like _that_ happened." Not for lack of temptation, her traitorous mind thought, but she pushed that thought away and continued. "And I will concede your point about that."

"Thank you," he said, a little surprised that she'd seemed to accept what he was saying, for the most part, without arguing with him any further. But he wasn't done yet. "I want you here, and right now, you said you're comfortable being here," he said, holding up a hand in anticipation of her protest, "with recent discussions about being _too_ comfortable set aside for a moment. So just stay here, for as long as you want or need. And if you're worried about eating my food or using my ambient heat or mashing down the pile of my carpeting by walking on it, then I have a way you can pay me back."

She looked him. "Knowing you, I'm not sure I should ask, but...okay, what?"

"You can pay me back by not making us have various forms of this conversation every day. And especially not this early in the morning. Do you realize that, as you're so fond of pointing out, we've barely started dating, yet we've had like three or four relationship talks since then? It's getting tiring, Beckett," he said with a forlorn look and an exaggerated sigh. "That's more heavy talks than some people have during entire marriages. Tell me, Kate...are you always this high-maintenance?" he chided, in a way that she knew he was ribbing her. "Because if you are, I should really know that now, so I can make flashcards or something. Then when you start worrying about things, I can just hold up the correct flash card. 'Don't worry, Kate.' 'We'll go slowly, Kate.' 'You're dating the most ruggedly handsome man in New York, Kate'," he said, giving her some examples. Her jaw dropped at his question about her being high-maintenance, and then she gave him a pithy look after hearing his silly, over-the-top idea. But once again, his humor made a certain bit of sense, even though she knew he was poking fun at her.

So she rolled her eyes at him. "Yes, I'm sure you'd love to _flash_ that last one around a bit. Highly ego-boosting for you."

"Feel free to boost my ego any way you want. Any time you want, too," he said with a cocky grin."

She ignored that statement, but then in a haughty voice, she answered his previous questions. "And no, I am _not_ high-maintenance. I am a cautious person, and I simply like to weigh large decisions such as this one."

"Kate, what type of scale are you weighing all of these decisions on? Something where you have to do complex equations to get your answer? Because really, you need a new scale. One that's made by the company called, 'Stop obsessing'."

She shook her head at him. "You know, you're not being very complimentary. First, you call me high-maintenance, and then you tell me I'm obsessing? Nice, Castle."

"Can you honestly say you're _not_ obsessing?"

When he pointed it out like that, with his brand of humor, she knew that he had a point. But she also wasn't going to acknowledge it. "You know, Castle, this conversation has taken a turn that I'm not sure I like. Tell you what...just to make you happy, I won't _obsess_ about cleaning up the breakfast dishes. They're all yours. I'm going to take a shower." And with that, she grabbed her crutches and hopped off toward his bedroom.

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Seven minutes later, he was still cleaning up the kitchen, thinking about their conversation. He liked the fact that she felt comfortable in his home, and even more, he liked the fact that she admitted it to him. But he didn't like the fact that she was worried about it. But, she was who she was, and she was a thinker. She analyzed. And he knew that she didn't jump into new situations easily, so sometimes she worried. So overall, even though she was indeed obsessing, he still considered it a positive step that she was even talking to him about it. He'd take it.

He turned around when he heard the sound of Kate's crutches as she came back into the kitchen. "I thought you were going to take a...what?" he asked, his train of thought disappearing when he saw the stormy look on her face and saw that she was holding up some of his clothing.

"Care to explain? I found this in your bathroom." She held up the pants and shirt that he'd been wearing the day before. "These are the clothes that you wore yesterday. Why were they in your bathroom? Which, I might add, is the bathroom that I'm using, per _your_ instructions."

Damn. He was so tired last night that when he'd stumbled into his own bathroom out of habit, he must have forgotten to put the clothes in the hamper. And of course she recognized the clothes, and now she was wondering why he was in the bathroom. And she was probably realizing something else... "Because I...took them off...to go to bed..."

She nodded. "Uh huh. Okay. And _where_ exactly was that, Rick?"

"In a bed...you know, that couch isn't..." he trailed off.

"Castle, after you took your clothes off, _which_ bed did you crawl into?"

"Uh, mine. In my room."

"Not in the guest room?"

"No...not right away." He saw the look on her face, and thought now would be a good time for damage control. "I woke up, on the couch, and I was really tired, so I went to my room to get ready for bed. And I did. And I forgot-"

"That I was sleeping in there?"

"Well, it was dark, and I just crawled in bed out of habit, and I felt you-"

"You _what_?"

"No...no...get your mind out of the gutter, Kate. I didn't even touch you. I just felt...or sensed, I guess...another body in the bed and I realized it was you."

She waited for him to finish, but then when he was silent, she said, "So what? You just...stayed there anyway?"

"Well, yeah," he said, sounding like a little child who didn't want to admit when he did something wrong, but was trying justify it in a better light because he got caught. "I was tired, and I set my alarm for an obscenely early time-much more obscenely early than it is right now-you know, so I could go to the guest room before Alexis woke up, like you wanted. And then I double checked it and made sure the ringer was really loud and everything..."

"So you really did sleep in there with me?" she tried to clarify, sounding puzzled.

"Yes?" he replied, forming it as a question, like he was scared of her reaction.

She shook her head, now looking as puzzled as she just sounded. "Okay, you say you slept in there with me, but you weren't there when I got up. And I don't remember you being there. I heard my alarm, but I didn't hear yours. Castle, I'm not getting this."

"I didn't want to go all the way upstairs," he started, making it seem like 'all the way upstairs' was in the next borough or something. "So when I remembered you were there, I just..." He took a breath. "I just wanted to be next to you, okay? I just wanted to feel you next to me, even if it was just for a few hours. But then you rolled over and snuggled against me. Put your arm around me and everything."

"I did not...I did?" She sounded somewhat incredulous.

"Yeah. And after that, there wasn't any way I was going to leave. If you're going to snuggle up against me, then by God, I'm staying put," he said with conviction. "Especially after not being able to touch you all yesterday, and then we missed our time together last night when Agent Piranha showed up."

Somehow that conviction in his tone, as well as his disappointment in not being able to spend time with her the night before, was something that hit her as incredibly sweet. He just wanted to cuddle with her, _be_ with her. She tried to ignore the little flutter in her belly when she asked, "So we both slept there. I mean I know_ I _did, but I don't remember you being there. But what about the alarm? And...yeah, when I woke up, I was hugging a pillow. What happened?"

"Before my alarm went off, I had a weird dream." He looked thoughtful as he naturally began to reiterate the dream to her. "There were these bunnies, and there was snow all over. The bunnies were sitting on ladders, reading books. And then some guns-they were like my laser tag guns-but instead of lasers they'd shoot globs of chocolate chip cookie dough into the bunnies, and they'd either fall off the ladder or they'd eat the cookie dough." He came out of dreamland and looked back at her, and found that she was looking at him with a look on her face that was a cross between amusement and fear for his mental health. "I sometimes have strange dreams," he told her with a shrug.

"You don't say."

"Oh, yeah," he continued, "but anyway, I woke up from that dream and then I decided-reluctantly, I might add-to just go to the guest room then rather than risking waking us both up with my alarm. So I slipped out and I replaced me with the pillow. That's it. But might I just add that knowing that you slept by me and, ahem, around me for a good portion of the night, it's kind of a letdown to realize that you didn't even remember? Do you know how many women-"

She took her hand and put it over his mouth. "Castle, you don't want to go any farther with that comment. Trust me." He nodded slightly under her mouth, and then she removed her hand. "So why didn't you say anything during breakfast?"

"Because it was obvious you didn't remember, and then you started in on another 'relationship talk'." He air quoted the words again for emphasis. "So, tell me, was I just supposed to say, 'By the way, Beckett, I hopped in bed with you again last night?'"

"Shh!" she shushed him. "Will you keep your voice down? But I don't know...yeah. Something. Was it better to have me find your clothes and think that you were some...peeping tom or something last night?"

"I never thought about you finding my clothes! I was tired, remember? And I didn't really...Kate?"

"What?"

"Why are we still having this conversation anyway? I mean, we," he lowered his voice, "slept in the same bed for part of the night. We've done that before. It was all totally innocent. And I woke up, and I went to the guest room, so no one was the wiser. Hell, Kate, _you_ didn't even know. So..."

"_So..._" she countered, still speaking in a low voice like he was, rolling her eyes in exasperation. "Castle, if you're going to use me for a bed warmer, don't you think I should at least know about it? And, you know, maybe _agree_ or something?"

He blinked at her. "Um, you did."

"I did _what_?"

"You did know, on some level, and you did agree," he informed her, although he seemed a little hesitant to admit it. She gave him a look that basically said 'yeah, right', so he continued. "No, really. When I got into my bed, you said my name, and then I said that the alarm was set and that you should go back to sleep. And you agreed and then you put your arm around me and I settled in for a _very_ peaceful few hours of sleep. Well, at least I did until I started dreaming about weird bunnies."

"So you're saying I knew you were there and I agreed."

"Yes."

She looked at him like she wanted to say something, but she didn't. She just narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips together, shaking her head very slightly. She believed him; that wasn't the issue. The issue was that number one, she had no memory of it, and number two, apparently her barely conscious self had no problem with Castle crawling into bed with her. And it was annoying that she couldn't even rely on her subconsious self to exercise some restraint in the matter. So she rolled her eyes, shoved Castle's clothes that she was still holding into his arms, and pivoted away from him as she started to go back to the bathroom. "I'm taking a shower now," she said over her shoulder.

And when she got back to the bedroom, she sat down for a minute on the bed, staring at where she'd slept the night before, and where Castle had apparently slept the night before. And now, she had to admit to herself that she might be most annoyed about the fact that she apparently snuggled with Castle and she didn't remember anything. Hell, if she snuggled with him, or even slept in the same bed as him, she damn well_ wanted _to remember it, even if nothing happened. Even if they didn't so much as kiss. Because sharing a bed with Castle, she knew now after the last weekend, was a really nice feeling. He was warm, and he was so cute when was all rumpled in the morning, and well...she just liked it. And she was admitting it, even if it was only in the privacy of her own mind.

Maybe she was overthinking things, like he said; obsessing. Maybe they didn't need to constantly talk about every little thing. Should she just go with the flow more? Go with the flow...it meant giving up control. You couldn't control things if you were just going to take life as it happened and not plan or analyze every detail. But wasn't Lanie always telling her that she needed to let loose a little? And letting loose meant you couldn't analyze every little thing. Neither she nor Castle planned for him to spend most of the night with her, but it had worked out okay in the end. Well, except for her not remembering it. But what if she tried to not over-analyze things, like an experiment? Lanie would be proud of her; maybe she could even tell her about this whole Castle thing some time, when she got up enough nerve to admit it to anyone but Castle. But...an experiment. For...a week. She would try not to over-analyze her personal life for a week, and she'd see how it went.

Then she realized she was sitting there ruminating and not making any progress toward starting the day, so she got up and grabbed some clothes. Time for ruminating-but no obsessing-later.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"A week? Mr. Peterson, are you sure?"

Detective Beckett was in the break room, sitting at a table with a mug of coffee in front of her. She'd escaped there while Castle had gone down to the morgue to pick up some reports from Perlmutter; she wanted a little bit of relative privacy to make a call to her Super to see when the elevator would be fixed, so she could think about going back home. Now Mr. Peterson was telling her that as he feared, the damage that the young tenant had caused to her building's elevator was along the more extensive side, and would take longer to repair. They discussed it a bit more, with Mr. Peterson promising to call her when the repairs were complete.

As she ended the call, Castle came strolling into the break room holding some file folders. He eased himself down in the chair across from her, immediately taking in the somewhat distressed look on her face. "What's wrong? Ankle hurt?"

"No. But I want to commit murder."

He was taken aback. He looked around, and seeing no one, leaned a little bit toward her and said in a low voice, "Come on, Kate, it was just a few hours, and no harm was done. We both slept really well-"

"Oh, shut up, Castle. I don't want to murder _you_," she told him in a frustrated tone. "This time."

"Oh. Nice to know. I think. But then what's wrong?"

"I just talked to Mr. Peterson. My Super? The elevator in my building won't be fixed for about a week."

"Ohhhh...good old Noah really did a number on it, huh?"

"Apparently," she said, rolling her eyes. And when her eyes stopped rolling, they came back to rest on Castle, who had an ever-so-slight grin on his face and a twinkle in his eyes. She knew that grin...it was the look he had when he was really trying to hold in his exhuberance when it was threatening to explode at any minute.

"Castle, why are you grinning? My elevator is out of commission for another week. I can't go home. And you're grinning, and that's annoying me. Maybe I should rethink my stance on murdering you now," she told him with a glare.

Despite her words, a little more of his grin leaked onto his face. "But now you can stay with us for longer."

"Unless I find a hotel or something," she threatened.

His face fell. "Kate, come on...it'll be fun."

"Castle, we're not having a slumber party. You're acting like we're going to sit around and braid each other's hair and talk about who the cute boys are."

He looked affronted for a few moments, and then he said, "I'll have you know that I _do_ know how to braid hair, and as for you, you'd only better talk about one cute boy. And don't deny it. You _did_ say I was cute...when you saw my picture hanging in the Old Haunt...remember?"

"Castle..."

"Look, you can't go home, and you're welcome to stay with me as long as you need, even if it's for a month." Then a little voice inside of him said 'Hell, just tell her to move in already, why don't you?' Whoa. He was glad that thought hadn't slipped out, or he feared he'd be burned to a crisp from a Beckett death glare. "We'll have fun. You can help Alexis with her French. And since I'm driving you around, it'll actually be doing me a favor because I won't have to go anywhere to pick you up."

Leave it to Castle to make it seem like her inconveniencing him was actually doing him a favor.

And then her early-morning resolution popped into her mind...no over-analyzing. And she knew she was doing it again. And she didn't really have much of a choice about her living arrangements right now anyway, right? And if the truth be told, if she couldn't go home, she'd much rather stay with Rick than in a hotel. So she took a deep breath and tried to push all of her doubts and protests out of her mind and made herself smile. "So Alexis told me that you make a mean beef stroganoff. Do you think you can make that tonight? Maybe pick up the ingredients for that when you go shopping for the bacon?"

If she wasn't already willing to be trying this no-obsessing experiment in order to de-stress her life a little bit, she realized at that moment that it would all be worth it just to see the shocked look on Castle's face at her 180, about-face, without-warning change in attitude. His mouth fell open and he blinked at her, but then as he realized what she was saying, another smile overtook his face as he casually agreed, "Sure, I can pick up what we need. I'll get some ice cream too; let me know what flavor you want."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Outside of the breakroom, Esposito was standing at the edge of the window, clandestinely looking in when Ryan walked up to him. "What's up?" Ryan asked.

"It's Mom and Dad. Looks like you're off the hook, bro. At least for now. They're sitting there smiling at each other. Just don't go saying any other stupid stuff about Castle's hotties, okay?"

"Me? No. I'll just let you stand here like a peeping tom and get in trouble yourself when one of them looks out here and sees you watching." And Ryan took off toward his desk.

And then thinking that Ryan definitely had a point, Esposito followed him back into the bullpen, wondering how long it would be before Beckett and her shadow followed.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Wow...finally done. That one, of course, turned out longer than I'd intended. Sorry for the delay; it was supposed to be done a few days ago but then it kept growing. <strong>_

_**I feel like I'm always writing Beckett getting freaked out, but I think that's just the way 'my' Beckett is. She's a badass take-charge cop, but she's insecure and hesitant and over-obsesses about little things on the personal front, especially in this relationship, when she knows deep down that so much is on the line. But I hope you like how I poked fun of their 'relationship talks' by having Castle poke fun of her a bit. **_

_**If you didn't read Blizzard, then I should tell you that Castle's dream was a conglomeration of a bunch of different references from that story. And if you did read Blizzard, then I hope you recognized the references.**_

_**As always, I appreciate your comments about the chapter. **_


	7. Chapter 7

_**I want to apologize from the bottom of my heart for making this update take so long. After the last chapter, I just lost my writing mojo for where to go next. I mean, I know, what I want to have happen in a few chapters, but this next one was just killing me. So I hope it turned out okay. The chapter is extra long, so I hope that makes up for my long hiatus, at least a little bit. **_

_**There's a minor reference to something from Chapter 3 of Blizzard toward the end of this chapter.**_

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing about these characters.**_

* * *

><p>Kate sat back in the chair. There was something to be said for not obsessing or over-analyzing, she thought. At least with regard to dinner. Because she found that Alexis was right...Castle did make a mean beef stroganoff. With the way the man could cook-who knew?-she was worried that she'd be gaining some weight during her time here, especially with her being unable to run or work out like she usually did. She had another appointment with Colin, the physical therapist, tomorrow, so she'd have to make sure that she asked him what else she could do to keep in shape.<p>

Alexis and her father were clearing the table, and although she felt guilty for not helping, she told herself not to obsess about it; she couldn't very well help with clearing the table anyway, with her crutches. After making her resolution earlier in the day, she found that she now had a little voice inside of her brain that was now trying to keep her in check. 'Don't obsess,' it said. And half the time, she now wasn't sure if something was a normal reaction, or if she was indeed trying to over-analyze things, so it resulted in her thinking about her reaction more, until she realized that she was over-analyzing her decision not to over-analyze.

Who ever knew that NOT obsessing about something could be this difficult?

And why did her realization that she was over-analyzing about her decision not to over-analyze sound suspiciously like something that Castle would say?

She got up from the chair and went into the kitchen, thinking she could help with something. Seeing piles of dishes by the dishwasher, she hobbled over and began to rinse them off and put them in the machine. She didn't really say anything, not wanting to interrupt the friendly argument that Castle and Alexis were having about...something. She realized that she didn't even know what was going on around her, which didn't really mesh too well with her new 'go with the flow' attitude. She couldn't go with the flow if she didn't know where the flow was going. Then for the second time in just a few minutes, she saw that her thought process once again sounded like something Castle would say. She smiled to herself and shook her head as she shut the dishwasher after loading the last plate. When she looked up, she found Castle staring at her with a bemused look on his face.

"Whereever you are, it must be a pleasant place to be," he said.

"What?" she asked him back, not really sure what he was talking about.

"You. We asked you a couple of times what kind of ice cream you wanted, but you were just loading the dishwasher with a little smile on your face and you didn't even hear us. Whatever you were thinking about, it must have been a good thought to make you ignore the offer of ice cream, especially with a smile on your face."

And he was indeed standing there, balancing three tubs of ice cream in his hands, still with that bemused smile on his face. And he caught her daydreaming, but for some reason she wasn't even mad. Go with the flow. Ice cream? Sure. So she smiled back and him and shrugged her shoulders. "Okay, whatcha got, Castle?"

Always ready for innuendo possibilities, his smile changed so it had a somewhat devilish glint to it for a split second, but then, cognizant of his daughter's presence, he answered in a G-rated fashion, "Double Strawberry, Chocolate Chocolate Chunk, Mint Chocolate Chip and Campfire S'mores." When he named four flavors, she noticed that Alexis was also holding one of the tubs.

"Wow, you weren't kidding when you said that you'd get some ice cream at the store." She turned to Alexis and said in a stage whisper, "Does he always go overboard with ice cream? I thought having lots of ice cream was a girl thing, to get us through bad breakups and sad movies."

"He learned that with an actress and a teenage girl in the house, it's good to be prepared on the ice cream front. We've trained him well."

"Ah..."

"And personally, if I were you," Alexis advised, leaning a little closer to Kate like she was a co-conspirator against her father, "I'd go with the Campfire S'mores. Then with any luck, that will satisfy his requirement to feed you something in the S'more food group. And he won't try to foist a S'morelette on you for breakfast."

Kate raised her eyebrows at the girl. "I'm not sure I really want to know, but _what_ is a S'morelette?"

"Only one of the finest culinary inventions to ever grace the stove of Casa Castle!" Castle said excitedly, leaning forward and interrupting the ladies' somewhat private conversation. He had a gleam in his eye and Kate had learned to be wary of him when his eyes were gleaming like that.

"Dad, please," Alexis said, tossing him a 'get real' type of look over her shoulder. She turned back to Kate. "In reality, it is one of the most_ disgusting _things to ever grace the stove of Casa Castle," she said, throwing her father a look. "It's a s'more inside an omelette, hence the name."

"So...let me get this straight. Chocolate, and marshmallows...inside of an egg?" Alexis nodded her confirmation.

Kate looked from Alexis, who now had a 'blech' type of look on her face, over to Castle, who was grinning like he'd just achieved world peace. "Seriously?" she asked Alexis and the girl nodded again. "That's just...unnatural."

"And gross," Alexis supplied.

Kate nodded her head slowly for a bit, finally telling Castle, "I think I'm going to go with the sage advice of the level-headed teenager who is obviously the only Castle with normal tastebuds. Give me the Campfire S'mores ice cream. And," she finished, pointing her finger at Castle, "keep any other mutant S'more creations away from me." Then she looked back at Alexis, telling her softly, "I'll owe you one for this."

"Hey, it's not that bad!" Castle protested.

Kate hobbled the few steps over to where Castle stood, still holding the tubs of ice cream. She reached up and patted his cheek. "Castle, it's kind of sweet, in a sick sort of way, that you want to share your culinary creations with me. And sometimes you do really well, like with the brownie explosion that you made last weekend. But never, ever try to give me anything remotely resembling a s'morelette, or it won't be pretty. I'm getting a lot of visions of what I can do with these crutches." She patted his cheek once more, and then reached up and gave him a little kiss on his other cheek. "Okay?" She asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

But Castle had lost all train of thought when she not only stepped close to him-with Alexis there, no less-but then reached up and kissed him. Well, actually, she threatened him, and then she kissed him very chastely, but somehow he thought the combination was kind of...alluring. And it was totally Beckett. And all he could do was nod at her when she asked for confirmation.

Then she said "Good," and after patting his cheek once more, started to hop into the living room. "You can bring me a bowl of ice cream, right?", she asked, turning around to check.

He nodded at her, and the the smile overtook his face, as it always seemed to lately whenever Kate Beckett had any sort of physical contact with him, although his reaction was a bit delayed because he hadn't been expecting it, and was still somewhat stunned. "Save me a place on the couch?" he asked, and she nodded back at him before leaving the room.

When Kate was out of earshot, Alexis shook her head again at the s'morelette conversation. Very softly, so Kate wouldn't be able to hear, she told her father, "Now remember, Dad. We like her, right?"

"Uh...yeah," he replied, not really sure where this was going.

"Good. Remember that. No s'morelette while she's staying with us, and don't you dare try to put bacon bits on her bowl of ice cream either!"

"Hey, that was a one-time thing!"

"But the memory lives on. And Paige still gets a worried look on her face whenever you mention anything to do with food. You know, you're lucky she didn't throw up; her stomach is kind of weak."

"Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Dad, there's adventure, and then there's just downright disgusting. If you want me to have adventure, get me hang gliding lessons. But you heard Kate. So let's get some _normal_ bowls of ice cream dished up-if it hasn't all melted by now-and we can see what's on TV."

"Bo-ring," Castle said, but nonetheless, he set the ice cream down and reached into the cupboard for bowls.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Alexis got a phone call from her friend while they were just finishing scooping the ice cream, so she put hers back in the freezer and went into the study to talk to her friend, while Castle took his and Kate's bowls into the living room. After the previous couple of nights of her skittishness around Alexis, he was fully prepared for her to be sitting in one of the chairs, where he wouldn't be able to sit next to her. However, he was pleasantly surprised-and mildly shocked-when she not only was sitting on the couch, but she smiled at him and patted the seat next to her when she saw him.

Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, he wasted no time in sitting down side of her, handing her bowl of ice cream to her before he sat. "So what flavor did you choose?" she asked, taking a bite of her own ice cream. "Oh, this is good!"

"Mine is the mint chocolate chip," he told her, taking a bite from his own bowl.

"Hmmm. I hope the combination of the two flavors won't be too awful-tasting when I kiss you."

She said it so nonchalantly that Castle had to repeat her words in his head to make sure he really heard what he thought he heard. She was voluntarily admitting that she was going to kiss him? When Alexis was around? When she was still so uptight about anyone knowing they were together? _She_ was talking about kissing him? So in wondering what had caused this change in her attitude, all he could say was, "Uhhhh..."

"Profound statement, Castle. But I guess it wouldn't be too bad, actually. It'll just be like a minty s'more, I guess. Kind of like a grasshopper pie."

She seemed so unaffected, and not uptight in the least. This wasn't the Beckett that he knew from the last couple of days. What was _wrong_ with her? What had happened to Beckett? The Beckett of the endless relationship talks and freak-outs?

But then he realized...who cares? He had an opportunity, and he wasn't one to pass up an opportunity. So, trying to match her nonchalance, he said. "Interesting hypothesis, Detective. Care to try it out and see if you're right?"

She regarded him for a moment, as she took another bite of the ice cream. He didn't know it, but her mind was warring with itself inside her head, forcing her to try to go with what felt good, what she somewhat reluctantly admitted to herself that she _wanted_ to do; she wanted to banter with Castle, she wanted to shock him just a little, and she wanted to kiss him. She wanted to feel that little tingly feeling in her belly when she kissed him. Paula wasn't there, and she'd heard Alexis go into the study. So they were somewhat alone. And she was going with the flow, right? And she wasn't obsessing, right? Over the course of the last several days, she found that she loved kissing the man. And she wanted to prove to herself that she could be more spontaneous and not obsess over every little word, every little action. She didn't want to prove Castle right when he talked about her obsessing and over-analyzing, even though she knew that again, even by thinking about it, she was obsessing about not obsessing again.

She wasn't a coward. She could do this. So with no warning (to him, anyway), she leaned over to him and pressed her mouth to his. She was reminded again that she liked it when she surprised him like that; it was funny to think that she had rendered him immobile with shock. But alas, when graced with a kiss, he never stayed immobile for very long. His lips, as they began to work against hers, felt cold initially, like they did when they'd kissed in the snow in the Hamptons during the lull in the blizzard. But his mouth tasted better, like chocolate and mint.

And after her little taste, after she slowed the kiss, she gave him a final little peck and pulled away, looking into the content blue eyes that had opened again when their lips broke contact. "Hmmm...nice, Castle. Chocolate and mint." She smiled at him before she popped another spoonful of her ice cream in her mouth.

Whoa, Castle thought. He was thinking it was hot, but then again, every kiss with Kate was hot on some level. Just the mere thought that he_ could_ kiss her now was hot, in a way. Good thing the ice cream was cold.

And while he was thinking that, Kate finished her ice cream and set her bowl on the table, and then she tucked her left leg up underneath her and leaned back into Castle. Almost unconsciously, he reached around to put his arm around her and gave her a quick kiss on the side of her head. Then he realized what he'd done, and he froze because of her reactions lately, especially over the last few nights. But she remained where she was, just relaxed against him, and he wondered exactly what planet he'd been secretly transported to.

They sat like that for longer than a few minutes, with neither one speaking or making a move to turn on the television. Alexis didn't come back, but they heard the muted sounds of her conversation drifting into the room, punctuated by the occasional exclamation over what he assumed was some typical teenage drama or angst.

He was cautiously enjoying this moment, this snuggly, seemingly totally relaxed Kate that he hadn't seen since they'd come back from the Hamptons. His mind drifted to the night that the power went out, right after she'd sprained her ankle. They'd sat on the couch in front of the fire. She was laying against him much as she was right now. They were-

"You're thinking pretty loudly, Castle. What's on your mind?" Kate asked softly, interrupting his reminiscing about that quiet, stolen moment several days ago.

"If you can supposedly 'hear' me thinking, Detective, then you should know what I'm thinking about," he reasoned.

She gave him a sideways look. "No way, Castle. I think your mind speaks in a totally different language than the rest of us."

"You know languages, so you should be able to figure it out. You're good at French, after all. You know that one _really_ well," he said with a sly grin on his face, referring to the many times that he'd talked about her giving him 'French lessons', his euphemism for the stolen kisses that had started in the Hamptons, which had ultimately progressed them into this attempt at a real relationship.

She reached back and swatted him playfully on the back of his head. "Yes, I know you liked those 'French lessons'. At least the more R-rated lessons." She paused for a moment, and then prompted, "So anyway?"

He tightened his arm around her just a bit. "I was thinking about how we sat like this during the first night of the blizzard. It was nice."

It had indeed been nice, and she still found her mind drifting to that night, those moments, at different times, when she should have been thinking of other things. But she thought at the time, even that soon, that it had just felt right, like she belonged there, and she was having the same feeling now. Because even though she still had to force herself to be relaxed around him when other people were around, she was finding it wasn't as hard as she thought it would be. And she still thought that it felt right to be there with him, and she could almost imagine other nights like this, months down the road. But if she wanted to take this slowly, then she knew she was getting ahead of herself with her thoughts of the future. So she tried to jokingly deflect him a bit now. "Right after I did the klutz maneuver on my ankle."

"After making the delicious kabobs on the indoor grill," he countered, trying to return the conversation to a pleasant memory.

"After you had to carry me all over the house because I couldn't walk."

Oh, Rick thought, so she was playing the pragmatic and he was playing the romantic. Check. He took her lead, but gave her a little bit of grief at the same time. "Also, Debbie Downer, after I wrapped up your ankle in that really awesome-looking soft splint." He tightened his arm around her just a bit and leaned his head against hers more.

"When you got all uptight about the thought of Alexis having boys at her slumber party."

He pulled back and gave her a glare, still just a bit embarrassed about having jumped to conclusions-very incorrect conclusions. "You just had to remind be about that, didn't you?"

"Of course," she replied innocently, with a smile.

He ignored her last comment and started back in on his memories. "The candles and the fire did make the scene pretty romantic," he observed.

So much for keeping it light. "Hmm...I guess it was," she admitted, once again thinking back on the night herself. "And yet right now, you have all of the lights on, and no fire." The teasingly scolding observation was out of her mouth before she could even think about how it sounded. And once it was out of her mouth, she realized that it sounded like she was asking for the romance. It sounded like a challenge. But then again, she asked herself, what was wrong with a little romance, even if they were taking it slowly? Even though it was by necessity when the power was out during the blizzard, she did appreciate the ambiance then. Not to mention the warmth of the man that she was cuddled with during the aforementioned blizzard.

"We could attempt to remedy that, I guess." He pressed another kiss to the side of her head, and then gently pushed her to a more upright position as he scooted off the couch. He first went over to the fireplace and started it, and then he dimmed several of the lights. He didn't want to make it too dark; his daughter was still going to join them sometime, and he figured if it looked _too_ dark and romantic, Kate might do her Jekyll and Hyde thing and turn all uptight and bristly again. And he wanted to keep this version of Kate, the one he hadn't seen very much of since they were alone in the Hamptons.

When he sat down by her again, he was pleased to find that she was still of the soft and cuddly variety, and she leaned back against him again. "Better?" he asked.

"Mmm hmm," she mumbled in reply. But then she leaned forward and grabbed a throw from the other end of the couch, quickly unfolding it and tossing it out so it settled lightly over the both of them.

Her mind drifted to her ankle, and she was thinking of her physical therapy appointment tomorrow and what time she'd need to leave to get there, when Castle said, out of the blue, "You know, your ankle is starting to look a lot better."

She pulled back and looked at him, giving him a suprised look. "How did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Do...that. I was just thinking about my PT appointment tomorrow, and then you mentioned my ankle. How did you know what I was thinking about? It's creepy."

He grinned. "Really? I'd say it was coincidence, but I've said before that we have a connection."

She rolled her eyes. "Sure thing, Rick. First you tell me that we have a psychic connection and then you'll start talking about destiny and karma and all of that crap."

"Well, you know, there's something to be said for-"

Any further words were cut off by a hand reaching back and covering his lips. She was about to give him an acerbic reply about his belief in all things paranormal, but she caught sight of Alexis walking into the room and plopping herself in a chair, looking at them with interested eyes. "Uh oh. Looks like you're trying to shut dad up about something. What did he say now?"

Kate laughed, and let her hand drift away from Rick's mouth. "Hi, Alexis. It's nothing much. I just didn't want to hear your dad start talking about psychics or aliens."

"I didn't mention one thing about aliens, I'll have you know," Rick interjected. "So is there anything new on the teenage high school drama front?" he asked his daughter. "You know, the phone call, the squeals, and all of the _'Seriously?' _comments?"

"Nothing much, just your basic who-likes-who and who's-going-to-scratch-someone's-eyes-out-for-looking-at-her-boyfriend type of thing," Alexis said off-handedly.

"Ah. So are you going to get your ice cream and join us? We could watch a movie, or maybe some awful reality TV show?" Rick injected enthusiasm into his voice, and he was pretty pleased with how he sounded. But only half of his focus was on Alexis; the other half was on the woman who he had his arms around; the woman who, surprisingly, didn't tense up when his daughter had walked into the room like she had the other night. Alexis replied, and Kate answered, and they chatted amiably about her homework and the exams she had coming up. He was waiting for her to pull away from him or something, but for some reason unbeknownst to him, she just sat there and chatted with Alexis, sounding as relaxed as she had when they were watching Stuart Little in the Hamptons.

Kate, snuggled up with him, relaxed, and all in front of Alexis. Now, what planet was he on again?

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The rest of the night passed uneventfully but pleasantly. The three of them sat and chatted for the rest of the evening until Alexis decided it was time for some reading and then bed. Kate and Rick continued to sit on the couch together, and continued talking about nothing in particular. Rick, still surprised by how relaxed and comfortable Kate had been ever since she shocked him at the precinct with the beef stroganoff comment, made not the slightest noise of protest or inappropriate suggestion when she announced that she was going to go to bed. He just wished her pleasant dreams and kissed her goodnight, turning out the lights in the common areas while she made her way to the bedroom.

Although he still couldn't quite figure out her abrupt change from making noises about finding a hotel earlier that afternoon to sitting cuddled with him on his couch all evening, he wasn't going to question it. He was just going to enjoy it. It wasn't a spectacular or exciting evening by normal standards, but just the fact that he could have those moments with _her_ made every moment special for him, and he would take all of those moments that he could get. So even if they did nothing more than sit together on a couch, that was fine with him, because she was with him.

He certainly had a chance to enjoy their unique relationship the next morning, when she came into the kitchen, looking adorably rumpled from sleep, and greeted him before she asked what he was cooking. In reality, he was just making a normal omelette with meat, veggies and various cheeses, but he couldn't resist adopting an excited air and informing her that he'd made a s'morelette just for her, because he was certain she was going to change her mind and she'd love his creation.

But alas, he found that joking with Beckett about culinary oddities-especially ones that she'd already proclaimed 'disgusting'-before she'd had her morning coffee was not a good idea. She gave him a look, and without saying a word, she calmly gave him a good morning kiss followed by a verbal 'good morning', and then simply reached behind his right elbow and very deftly pressed on the nerve that made his arm muscles go slack. He dropped the spatula with a clang and exclamation of "Jeez, Beckett!" After he quickly stepped away from the stove so his numb hand wouldn't accidently fall on the burner, she swooped in, grabbed the spatula, and took over cooking duties without saying a word.

He was hitting his hand, trying to regain some feeling in it, as he said, "Do you want to tell me what the _hell_ you just did to my arm?"

"I saved these poor eggs from Castle-abuse, and in the process, I'm going to keep my fond memories of real s'mores intact and I'm also going to avoid gagging when I see..." Her voice trailed off as she really looked at the omelette in the pan. He'd just flipped it 'closed' right before she'd walked up, and now she took the edge of the spatula to lift up a bit of the top half. "Castle, this is normal. This is a normal omelette," she told him turning around to look back at him, a look of suprise on her face.

"Yes, it's called _breakfast,_" he told her absently, still slapping his arm.

"What about the s'morelette?"

"It's called a _joke_, Beckett. Your reaction was so...strong when we were talking about it last night, so I couldn't resist the little fib this morning."

She narrowed her eyes at him, and then she started waving the spatula like she was wagging her finger at him. "A little fib? Castle, you seriously thought that telling me that you'd made that vomit-inducing thing before I'd even had my morning coffee was a _little fib_?"

"Well...uh...I thought it...seemed...like a good idea...then," he replied haltingly.

"Wrong. Castle, if this relationship is going to go anywhere, you have to learn one concrete rule: Never, but never, attempt to joke with me like that before I've had my morning coffee. Got it?" Not waiting for an answer, she looked around. "Now, speaking of coffee, where is it?"

He bobbed his head toward the two cups on the counter side of him, already poured and ready to go.

Gratefully, she reached over and grabbed one of the mugs. After a few long sips, she looked back at the pan. "We do still have a problem with this omelette though, Castle, even though it's not disgusting."

"What?" he asked, perplexed because the omelette looked perfect to him.

"It's huge. It's easily enough to feed several people."

"It's normal. Which is still more than I can say for my arm," he said, still shaking it slightly. "And it'll only feed several people if each of those people only eats about as much as a mouse."

"I eat more than a mouse, and it's still way too much for me."

"Why, detective, are you asking me to share your omelette?" he asked with a twinke in his eye.

"That's up to you, Castle. But I'll tell you right now that if you expect me to eat that entire thing, then you're sadly mistaken."

"If it's up to me, then I'll be happy to share your omelette, Detective," he told her with a grin and a wink. "Although, you may have to hold the plate while I lift it out of the pan. For some reason," he said with a pointed look, "I just don't trust my right arm to hold the plate."

Since she knew there was probably some truth to his statement, she just rolled her eyes and said "Oh, shut up, Casle, and give me the plate."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Later, at the precinct, Kate watched the clock as she went through her paperwork and tried to do some of the background checks for a new case that the guys had picked up overnight. It reminded her of when she was a new detective, when she'd have to do a lot of the background work of checking and rechecking facts. But she was still cognizant of her upcoming physical therapy appointment; she was almost excited about it. She was hoping that Colin would give her the go-ahead to try more...more exercises, more weight bearing, more whatever. Something. Anything. She didn't want to hurt her ankle any more and delay her recovery, but it had been several days, and she was anxious to get to the next phase of her recovery.

Castle gave her apprising looks throughout the morning. She kept glancing at the clock, or picking up her phone and checking it. Finally, his natural curiosity got the best of him, and after making sure there was nobody within earshot, he said casually, "What's up?"

She looked up from her files, brows knitted together. "What do you mean?"

"At least once every five minutes, you're either checking your phone or glancing at the clock on the wall. Do you have a hot date or something?" he asked jokingly.

Damn. Was she that obvious? She set down her pen. She didn't want to seem so...lame, like she was a child who could hardly wait for Christmas. But apparently he'd picked up on her impatience. However, if there was one thing she knew about Castle, it was how to distract him. And she slipped into the role effortlessly and immediately.

"Well," she replied in a soft voice with a coquettish tone to it, "I _do_ have some plans, and I'm just kind of...excited." For emphasis, she bit her bottom lip in a teasing manner as she let her words sink into his brain.

Her words and her attitude had the desired effect. The grin dropped off his face as he stammered, "Ex...excited?" When she said it like _that_, it brought one meaning, and only one meaning, to his mind.

"Oh, yes. Definitely excited."

"Oh." He took a deep breath. "And your plans involve...someone?" he prompted.

She nodded, the sassy little grin still on her face. "Uh huh. He's really strong, and handsome, and he has a great smile..." she started, and after each adjective, Rick's chest seemed to puff out a little bit more, as he obviously thought she was talking about him. But then when she continued, saying, "and all of that long, gorgeous blond hair," his bubble was burst and he did a double-take.

"What?"

She gave a little laugh. "My physical therapy appointment, Castle. It's this afternoon, remember?" she asked him, back to her normal voice. "It's funny, but I'm finding that I'm actually looking forward to it. I'm hoping I can get cleared to do more with my foot."

She said the words so nonchalantly, and he was left gaping at her a bit. "You..." He looked around quickly before he said his next word, "_excited_...for _therapy_? And...oh. Blond...oh, yeah, your so-called therapist," he said with derision.

"Well...yes, of course. What did you think I meant?" She raised an eyebrow at him before replying under her breath, "You are so easy!" But then she explained, "I know it's kind of strange, and I'm almost embarrassed to admit that I'm watching the clock like I am. So sue me."

"I just might, for tricking me like that," he pouted.

"Thanks," she said then, out of the blue.

"For what?"

"For taking my mind off of how slowly the clock is really moving, just by being so predictable."

"Me? Predictable?" He said the word like it was a supreme insult.

"About that? Yes," she answered bluntly. "Your mind went precisely where I thought it would. Men..." She shook her head with a smile and looked back at her paperwork.

But when she felt a light touch on her arm, she looked up into a pair of blue eyes that were on a face with a smug smile on it. "But Detective," he said very softly, for her ears only, "if you ever find yourself...excited...for a different reason that has nothing to do with a freakishly large so-called physical therapist, I can say I'll be happy to help you work out that...excitement. Anytime. Just say the word."

No, there was absolutely no doubt where his mind was, that was for sure. And because she'd spent so much time with him lately, and their relationship had blossomed, she recognized what she saw in his eyes. Lust.

But they were in the station, and even though nobody was in the immediate vicinity, she could still feel the presence of all of those other people. She would have loved to get lost in those eyes of his, especially with what she saw there, but now was not the time. Definitely not the time. But sometime...

"I'll keep that in mind, Castle." And then, because she couldn't resist, she added, "And I'll be sure to give you some warning, because otherwise I don't know if you'll be able to handle my level of...excitement."

Once again, his face went slack at her words, as the images were no doubt swirling in his brain. But ultimately, that seemed to be the right answer, and once he recovered, he leaned back in his chair with that grin on his face, and picked up his phone to play a game.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm not. You heard your...therapist." Whenever he said the word, at least in reference to Colin, the blond hunk of a physical therapist, he always got a sour look on his face and said the word like it was a bad taste in his mouth. They were back at the loft now, done with the morning of clock-watching, and the afternoon of physical therapy followed by more paperwork back at the station before they decided to call it a day.

"Yes, I did. But I didn't think you did. You were too busy scowling behind his back as he checked my leg. Rick, how many times did I hear you say that he didn't know what he was doing? I can only be thankful that you didn't say that while we were _in_ the actual appointment with him." Kate couldn't resist calling him on a bit of his behavior; once again, he'd gone to her appointment with her, and had sat by when Colin was checking her leg. Despite the fact that Colin explained that the injury to her ankle ultimately affected the mucles in her whole leg, she was aware of Castle's subtleties and knew that he bristled when Colin was massaging her calf and was talking about keeping the muscle limber with the injury. With the faces he was making whenever Colin's back was turned, she thought there was no way that he'd be able to recall anything that Colin had said, much less remember it _and_ give it enough credence as to his advice being sound enough to follow.

"Well, I probably wouldn't have believed him, if I hadn't done a little bit of research on my own."

"I realize I may not like the answer, but exactly _what_ kind of research did you do?"

"The specifics of sprained ankles, of course." But his voice was just a bit too smug, and it gave her the inkling that there was more to the story.

"Oh, of course."

"You doubt me? Kate, must I remind you that I'm an author? If there's one thing that I do a lot, it's research. I always have to do research when I'm writing, to check facts and make things more authentic."

"Sure. Like you used your buddy Paul for research, yet still had your intrepid hero running eight weeks after his compound fracture," she said, countering his claim with what Paul had given him some grief about. "Really authentic there, Castle." She rolled her eyes at him.

"That was called artistic license," he defended himself.

"The same artistic license that made you give your new cop character a stripper's name? Yes, that really made her sound 'authentic', Castle."

"Kate, you're not going to get out of this with your double-talk or by shifting the focus onto the authenticity of my research or characters."

"No, I don't suppose I am going to get out of this. However, I think there's more to the story about your so-called research. What else did you find? What is it that you're not telling me?"

She gave him her patented Beckett interrogation glare, and despite his best efforts, he found himself squirming just a bit. She was good. "What makes you think there's something that I'm not telling you?"

"Because she knows you, Dad," said the new voice in the room. Upon hearing it, both sets of adult eyes turned to focus on the astute teenager that had just walked into the room. When he saw his daughter, Castle's face broke into a smile and he set the marker down to walk over to greet her with a quick hug. Kate smiled at Alexis and gave her a friendly wave.

When he was done greeting his daughter, however, Kate told him, "Get on with it, Castle, and stop using your daughter to stall. What are you not telling me?"

Alexis pulled back. "Yeah, Dad, I want to hear this too. What's going on? No, you," she said, pointing at her father, "be quiet. I want to hear this from Kate."

After shooting a smug smile at Castle, Kate told Alexis, "Your dad has some sort of problem with my physical therapist. He insists that he wants to come to my appointments, but then he's terrible."

"Terrible?"

"He makes all of these faces whenever Colin is trying to explain something. Do you know how hard it is to concentrate on what a _medical professional_ is trying to tell you when your dad is making faces and trying to look disapproving behind his back?"

"Professional, my-"

"Castle!" Kate said, cutting him off. To Alexis, she replied, "See what I mean?"

Alexis looked at her father, who had a look on his face that was a cross between a pout and outrage. "What's wrong with him, Dad?"

"He's just too...big. And he's too young. And he has all of those...muscles. I already told Kate he could hurt her or something. And professional? Ha! How can he possibly be professional with that hair?"

"Hair?" asked Alexis, not understanding.

"Colin has long, blond hair. And it's pulled back very neatly in a pony tail," Kate explained.

"What's wrong with that?" Alexis asked. "Mr. Kramer...you know, my English teacher? He has a pony tail, and you never said anything about him not being professional just because of his hair."

"Does he caress your legs while he talks to you in a deep, soothing voice too?"

Alexis exclaimed, "Dad!" at the same time that Kate shouted, "Castle!"

At their exclamations, he had the grace to look chagrinned at what had just spewed out of his mouth unchecked. Alexis shook her head and looked at the ceiling. "God, Dad, you're talking about this Colin like you did about that one guy I liked a while ago, right before I met Ashley." After she said it, Kate noticed that she got a gleam in her eye, much like her father did when he made a connection in a case. "God, Dad, are you _jealous_ of Kate's therapist?" Then she turned to Kate, and being the teenager that she was, asked "Hey, you don't have a picture of him, do you? If he makes Dad this jealous, he must be really hot!"

"Alexis!" Castle exclaimed in surprise at his daughter's candor. "He is _not_ hot."

Alexis looked at Kate for confirmation, and Kate shrugged her shoulders with a little grin on her face. "Well, actually he _is_ kind of hot."

This time, Castle's exclamation was directed at the other female in the room. "Kate!"

"Hey, what's wrong with a nice view? I can look, but I won't touch. Well, he touches me, but that doesn't count." Alexis listened to her reasoning and had to stifle a laugh when Kate got to the 'touching' part.

"Kate!" he exclaimed again.

Both of the ladies shared a look and a smile, but it was Alexis who spoke next. "Okay, so Kate's therapist is hot, and Dad's jealous so he just doesn't like the guy on principle. That seems pretty normal. So what's Dad not telling you, other than admitting he's being a jealous neanderthal type?"

"Richard, you're being a jealous neanderthal, _and_ you're hiding something from Kate? Oh, that sounds like a soap opera! Especially the 'hot therapist' part. How divine!" Martha said as she swooped into the room. All of the three other pairs of eyes turned to look at her as she perched herself on the arm of the couch. "Don't stop now, I want to hear all of the juicy details. Life has been so boring ever since the blizzard and I need a little pick-me-up."

"Mother!"

"Nonsense, Richard. If Kate has a hunky therapist, that means she'll heal faster because she'll be more...uh...encouraged to do a good job for him. Isn't that right, dear?" she said, the last question addressed to Kate.

"Hi, Martha. Good to see you again," Kate said, greeting her appropriately after not seeing her for a few days. "As for my foot, I want to heal quickly just to get back to normal. But you're somewhat right; Colin definitely isn't hard on the eyes."

"Well, good for you, darling! You might have a little setback with that dreadful ankle problem, but it's good that you can recognize the...shall we say, the perks of the situation. Which just might be named Colin," she said with a wink and a conspiratorial grin, while Castle looked on with a somewhat disgruntled look on his face. "But anyway, dear, do tell us why you think Richard isn't telling you something." She leaned forward and looked very interested.

"Well, Colin gave me a walking boot to wear for a little while each day, so I don't have to use the crutches so much. It provides support for movement, but it also restricts mobility of the joint, so he wants me to do some exercises to keep the joint limber. Now, the man has been acting this whole time like he doesn't like Colin, like he doesn't know what he's doing, etcetera etcetera. But now, all of a sudden, he's all gung-ho about me doing the exercises that Colin told me to do. I don't get it. Why would he not like him and not trust anything he tells me one minute, but the next minute treats his instructions like they're the letter of the law?"

The man in the room was looking uncomfortable, though he tried to disguise it with a happy smile on his face. Alexis and Martha looked thoughtful. Then, all of a sudden, Alexis' eyes got a bit wider and she said, "Dad, please tell me you didn't."

"Didn't what?" he asked innocently.

"Didn't do some sort of a background check on Kate's therapist."

At Alexis' words, Martha threw an exasperated look at him, saying "Richard. Really."

Rick gave a nervous laugh, saying, "Wha...background check?" He still tried to sound innocent, but he was too guilty for that to work.

Kate, who was sitting down, stood up right in front of Rick and stared him down. "Castle, you actually did a background check on my therapist?"

"He did a check on my violin tutor. And he was pretty cute too," Alexis interjected.

Finally, he caved just a bit under her glare, especially when it was delivered with the audience of his mother and daughter. "I...may have...asked a...few people about his...qualifications. As a physical therapist, that is."

"You _checked up_ on my therapist?"

"I...uh...yes. Okay? I did it. But I just wanted to make sure he was qualified to help you, okay?"

She nodded thoughtfully. "So tell me, Castle, what did you find out?"

"He...uh...graduated."

"That's good. Since you obviously checked on his education, then you probably know where in his class he graduated. From your vagueness, I'm guessing it was pretty high. Was it?"

"Uh, sort of."

"And that means...?" she prompted.

"Top ummm percent," he mumbled.

"Sorry, can you repeat that? I didn't quite catch that."

"Top two percent of his class, all right?" he said more clearly, but defensively.

"Ahhh...so he evidently does know something. I see. So, what else is there, Castle? I know there's more. And you might as well spit it out now, before I start yanking on your ear."

"Come on, Dad. She's the police," Alexis interjected. "They have ways of making you talk."

"What, are you going to waterboard me or something?" Kate just put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes a bit more to sharpen her glare. "Fine...I called Paul, okay? I asked him what he knew about the guy, and Paul said he's one of the best there is, and he's one of those people who really found his calling. He's apparently pretty good. At physical therapy, that is."

"What else would there be, Castle?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Uh...nothing," he replied, knowing his daughter was there. Alexis just rolled her eyes. Then, remembering the original reason that this whole conversation got started, he went back to his orignal thought. "So anyway, since he's so good, and I know he gave you this particular exercise, you really need to listen to your therapist, Kate. You have to do your exercises, you know."

She sat back down. "It's weird, Castle. And he didn't say anything about me having an audience."

"What does he want you to do?" Alexis asked.

Kate huffed out a breath and shot Castle a look that said 'I'm going to get you for this.' She began explaining, "Like I said, Colin gave me some exercises to do to try to move my joint. I'm supposed to pretend my big toe is a pencil and 'write' some letters with it. It just makes me move my ankle around, you know? But your dad wants to take it a step further. Apparently, he wants me to hold a marker between my toes and actually write letters on that dry erase board there."

"Really? That sounds kind of fun."

At his daughter's words, Rick's face brightened up. "See? _She_ says it sounds like fun, and she's the level-headed teenager, right? Come on, Kate. It's therapy tiiiiimme!"

"Hey, if she doesn't want to try it, can I try it?" Alexis asked. "It'll be fun to see how much control I have with my toes for a fine-motor skill like writing."

"Why don't we all try it? We could have a contest. Mother, you can be the judge." Castle pushed the coffee table out of the way and set the dry-erase board on the floor in front of the couch. He pushed Alexis down next to Kate, and handed out the markers. "Okay, you have to hold the marker in your toes, and you can't use anything except for your toes and the marker."

"Castle, have you forgotten that I'm the injured one, that I don't have as much mobility in my ankle for foot penmanship? How am I supposed to even compete in this little contest?"

"Don't worry, dear," Martha whispered to her in a conspiratorial tone. "I'll go easy on you."

So they began their game, everyone taking off their socks and positioning a different colored marker between their toes. The first challenge was that each person had to write his or her name, which got some grumbling from Alexis because she had the longest name. Then they moved onto drawing a snowman, or as Castle so wittingly called it, a 'bum de neige'. Of course, that was quickly corrected by both Alexis and Kate, as Martha just looked at them with an amused look on her face, even though she had no idea what they were talking about. Kate found that her limitations with her ankle actually helped her, because she was forced to concentrate just a bit more than the other two.

They played for the better part of an hour, alternating turns until Castle announced that _his_ ankle was getting sore. Kate just gave him a glare and said, "Baby," and stuck out her tongue at him to give him a bit of grief.

After everything was cleaned up and socks were put back on feet, Martha bid everyone good night and retired to her room. Alexis asked Kate a few things in French, which had Castle's head bobbing back and forth as he watched them and wondered what they were saying. His paranoia was telling him that they were talking about him, but he couldn't get either of the ladies to confirm his paranoia or deny it. With a laugh, Alexis went to her room to do some of her nightly reading, leaving just her dad and Kate in the living room.

After turning out some of the lights, Rick plopped down on the couch next to Kate. "Ankle okay?" he asked.

"Surprisingly, yes. It feels good to try to move it. Of course, not quite as good as when _Colin_ moves it for me." She shot him a sideways look, and she couldn't quite hide her grin.

"Funny."

"Come on, Rick. He's my therapist. That's it. He might be nice to look at, but I'm finding that I prefer the tall, rugged, author-type. Especially the ones who cook awesome breakfasts."

"So you just want me for my S'morelette."

"No, I want you _despite_ your S'morelette."

"Is the S'morelette a deal-breaker?"

"Rick, that concoction is more than a deal-breaker. It's a deal-destroyer."

"Darn."

She laid her head on his shoulder. "I think you'll survive."

He laid his hand on her leg. "More for me, I guess." They sat in silence for a few minutes. "Kate? Can I ask you something?"

"Well, technically, you just did."

"You know what I mean."

"Yes...what? But I reserve the right to not answer if the question is too kinky or inappropriate."

"Okay...uh...well, before last night, you were so uptight about anyone seeing us together, even Alexis or my mother. But last night, you were really relaxed. Tonight, when were were playing the foot writing game, you even enjoyed yourself; I could tell. So what happened?"

"To make me more...relaxed?" He nodded. "I...you noticed?"

He nodded again. "Who _wouldn't_ notice a change like that?"

"I guess I tried to force myself to relax and not worry or obsess about things. No over-analyzing. I wasn't sure how it was working, but I guess it must be working if you noticed it."

"I did. And I like it." He laid his head against hers. "Kate?"

"What?"

"I'm glad you're more relaxed now. Especially around my family. I want you to be relaxed around my family."

"I am, Rick. Strangely, more than I thought I'd be."

"Good." They were silent for the next few minutes, just enjoying being by each other. Then Castle absently asked, "So, are you going to try to wear the walking boot tomorrow?"

He felt her nod against his shoulder. "Yes, but I'll take the crutches with me just in case. I'll be nice to be able to walk around the precinct, to not have to deal with the crutches on the steps going into the buil-" She had a realization, and then she sat up. A smile bloomed on her face. "Hey, I just realized something! Since I have the walking boot now, I can go home! I can use the stairs now with the boot! Isn't that great?"

At her proclamation, his mouth dropped open a bit as he looked at her happiness over the potential that she could go home sooner. He hadn't thought of that. He hadn't thought of that at all. Then as he watched her, he had his own realization: he didn't want her to go. He wasn't ready for her to go. He liked her being here, living in his home.

She was looking at him like she wanted him to congratulate her or something. But how could he act happy for her when the thing that would make her happy was something that he didn't want to happen at all?

* * *

><p><em><strong>Hope you enjoyed it.<strong>_

_**I do proof my work, but I don't have a beta, so if you find any spelling mistakes, wrong word usage, missing spaces or any other oddities, please PM me to let me know so I can fix them.**_

_**Once again, I apologize for the long delay with this chapter. If you made it this far, thank you for reading. Feedback and comments are always very much appreciated; knowing what people like about the chapter helps me when I write future chapters. Thank you!**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**Happy 2012! **_

_**Regarding a couple of the more humorous reviews on Chapter 7 that were graciously left for me: Emmy the Vampire, please assume that my Alexis shares your squickiness over the toes on the markers, and she insisted that her dad wash them all off when they were done with the game/therapy. LOL. And also, I didn't have the marker game as part of my therapy; it was purely the result of my research on ankle injury rehab and imagination. Janinsc, I did work very hard to get this chapter done for you and was fast and furiously typing it out. However, you'll have to blame my relatives (where we're visiting over the holiday) for not having any sort of an internet connection, thus preventing me from posting sooner. **_

_**And to everyone else who was stressing out over any potential angst that might result from my ending, I think you'll like this chapter. That's not to say that I won't have more angst later on, but when do I ever do prolonged angst in my stories? (I'll just reference Chapters 22-23 of The Plan to make my point.) **_

_**Disclaimer: The characters are not mine.**_

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><p><em>Previously:<em>

_Kate forced herself to be more relaxed around Castle and his family, and in doing that, she discovered that it wasn't so bad after all. She found that she enjoyed herself more. Alexis warned her about the S'morelette, and Castle discovered that joking with her about S'morelettes before she'd had her morning coffee was not a good thing to do. She had her next physical therapy appointment with Colin, the hunky therapist, and Colin gave her a walking boot to wear sometimes, so she could provide some support to her ankle while she tried walking on it. Alexis and Martha got in on some of Kate's therapy exercises, which Castle put his own spin on. In doing that, he was forced to admit that he checked out Colin's qualifications, and found that he was highly regarded. Alexis figured out that her dad was jealous of the hunky therapist, and the ladies proceeded to give him a bit of grief about that. When Kate and Rick were alone, Kate suddenly realized that since she now had the walking boot, she could move back to her apartment, even though the elevator wasn't fixed yet, since she could take the stairs with the new walking boot. She was happy about this, but Castle wasn't, because he realized that he wanted her to keep living at his loft._

Kate stared at him, the smile dropping off her face while she wondered what was going on in his head. He looked...stunned.

"What's wrong?" she asked him.

He didn't want her to leave; it was that simple. He wanted her to stay. And that unbidden thought from a few days ago-that she should just move in-had crept back into his mind now. How could he formulate the thought that he didn't want her to go without it appearing that he was trying to take over her life? She'd been hesitant enough about staying here anyway; he didn't want to scare her by voicing thoughts like that. 'Move in with me' didn't really equate with her request to take things slowly.

"I..." He took her hand and squeezed it. "I know you want to be back to your normal butt-kicking self, but just...don't think you _need_ to leave, okay? I mean, I'm not kicking you out or anything. And you probably will be able to move back to your apartment before you thought you'd be able to, but I think maybe you should just make sure you're...uh...used to wearing the boot before you think about anything like that."

She regarded him through narrowed eyes. "Uh huh..." she said as she nodded her head slowly.

He hated when she did that, when she said basically nothing and then the onus was on him to keep talking because she was looking at him like _that_. "Look, just try out the boot tomorrow. Get used to it for at least a few days." Then he had an inspiration. 'Oh, Castle,' he thought, 'you are a genius sometimes!' He just hoped Kate liked the idea. He attempted a disarming smile as he suggested, "Hey, if you want to test your mobility with the boot, why don't we switch bedrooms? You can sleep upstairs in the guest room now. I know you didn't like taking over my room, and this way, it's only one flight instead of three."

"Switch rooms," she parrotted, obviously considering it.

"Well, yeah. You don't want to jump into anything too fast. Remember when you got your crutches and you could finally move around on your own? You went wild right away, moving all over the place. And then your hands hurt the next day. Too much, too soon. You have to get used to it. So get used to the stairs here for a few days before you go home."

"This isn't some lame attempt to keep me from going home, is it?"

"What?" He hoped he was sounding innocent, because she'd certainly hit the nail on the head with that observation, though he certainly didn't want her to know how right she was. "I'm simply pointing out the obvious considerations. One flight of stairs, versus three. Easing into things, rather than doing too much, too soon. The company of a ruggedly handsome writer who makes great breakfasts, as opposed to...nobody."

"Castle..."

"Just give it a try, okay? Like I must have said at least a thousand times already, it's absolutely no problem for you to stay here. And look, you being here came in handy before when you were helping Alexis with her conversational French. Although I have to admit that I'd really like to know what the topic of all of that conversational French was..." he trailed off, giving her a pointed look, obviously letting her know that he felt is was her turn to pick up the conversation and let her know what she and Alexis had been talking about.

She returned the pointed look, but with a small smile. "It really bothers you, doesn't it? To not know what we were talking about, wondering if we were talking about you...or cute guys..."

"You say that like those two things are mutually exclusive."

"Well, your daughter isn't really going to describe her father as 'cute', now is she? So yes, in that case, the two things are mutually exclusive. But as I was saying, we could have been telling more stories about you, or talking about the cute new guy at her school, or we could have been talking about more...intimate and personal things." But the time she'd finished talking, her voice was like it was at the station earlier, soft and flirty, when she was talking about being 'excited' about her upcoming therapy appointment. She reached out to trail a fingertip down his chest.

He looked from the fingertip back to the face of the woman across from him, the one that held a slight smile, even though her lips were pursed together as if she was trying very hard not to say something. "Intimate and personal, huh?"

"Maybe, maybe not," she teasingly replied.

"Intimate and personal...like this?" And as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he didn't really give her a chance to confirm or deny, because he leaned forward and very much invaded her personal space, and the mouth that had spoken those words was now attached to her own. Her lips opened for his almost involuntarily, and the thought of replying in words was quickly stricken from her brain. She just merely put her response into the physical form, as he proceeded to kiss her senseless. She'd discovered only over the last week how the man could kiss-and oh, could he kiss!-but each time that it was more than a peck, it seemed like she felt herself simply dissolving into him. The kiss must have been making her boneless, because she barely registered when she laid back into the cushions in the corner of the couch. Neither was sure if she pulled or if he pushed, but somehow they both ended up almost horizontally, and his weight pushed her into the plush cushions of the couch as they continued to plunder each other's mouths.

She wound one of her arms around his neck, while the other went to his face where she could feel the late-day stubble on his jaw. He poured himself into the kiss, and he suddenly couldn't be close enough to her. His arms had been under her back from when he'd first embraced her, but now one of them crept out and caressed her side, eventually finding its way under her shirt to touch her bare skin. But that wasn't enough, and his searching hand dipped lower until it found its way inside the waistband of her pants, where he felt a bit of lace covering her shapely derriere. She felt his hand when it made contact with her bare skin, but when she felt his hand dip lower, she pulled away and drew in a sharp breath when the heat of his hand felt like it was branding her skin. "Rick..." she said in a breathy pant as her eyes opened and found his.

He just stared at her for a few seconds, before he admonished her, "I _told_ you what would happen if you ever said my name like that..." He was referring, of course, to their time during the blizzard, when they'd been holed up in his spacious master suite and had gotten carried away, and she began saying his name in a sexy voice just to have fun with him. The newness of her using his first name, coupled with the sexy tone that she put to it, had had him conjuring up very inappropriate thoughts.

"But you started..._that..._way before I said it."

"But now, it just makes me want to..." He didn't finish his thought, because he knew that she could figure out what he meant.

"Yeah, I know." Then, almost shyly, she admitted, "Me too."

"Really?" he asked, his face lighting up.

Even in the position she was, she couldn't resist rolling her eyes at him. "Yes, you goof, really. You think I let just anyone push me down on a couch, kiss me until my bones melt, and let him cop a feel of my ass?"

He was secretly giddy at her 'bones melt' comment, but he just said, "It wasn't enough."

"What wasn't enough?" she asked, trying to maintain some semblance of rational thought while he was inches from her face, while she could still feel the wonderful weight of him as he lay above her.

"You ruined the moment when you pulled away. Copping a feel is only good when you're being distracted by me kissing you. I couldn't complete my copping if we weren't kissing."

"Rick, your hand is still there," she said, as if he needed reminding that his hand was still inside her pants, cupping her rear end.

"Duh. But I'm not kissing you now, so it doesn't count. We're _talking_. Do you really want to be _talking_?"

She looked at him as if considering the question. But the smile dropped from her face, and her gaze very pointedly flitted to his lips and then back to his eyes. "No," she said simply, and then she raised her head just a bit and sealed her lips to his again.

They kissed again, and during that kiss, he was able to more appropriately cop a feel of that shapely derriere. Of course, he didn't actually say anything about it being acceptable because that would require talking, and by his standards, that would negate the entire process. Up until now, he'd only looked. And the comment that she made about 'looking but not touching' in reference to Colin flew back into his mind, and he realized on some level that he'd looked for years, but now he was allowed to touch. And realizing what he was doing, and who he was doing it with, was like the best Christmas and birthday presents all rolled into one. And when, during that kiss, she evidently got the idea that two could play at that game, it just made it that much better. She attempted to return the favor to him, and he could feel her hand reach lower until it was moving over his backside; however, her efforts were thwarted by her position and the fact that his shirt was tucked in and she didn't have good enough leverage to pull it out. So she just transferred all of her efforts back into the kiss.

The next time one of them pulled away, it was him, and he dropped his head down and buried his face in her neck. She could feel his warm breath on her skin as he exhaled and tried to regain his breath, and she had to stifle the urge to shiver at the feeling. Slowly, he pulled his wandering hand away and put it around her back again in a simple embrace. He rolled just a bit to the side so he wasn't on top of her anymore, but he held her just as close. When his breathing had returned to some semblance of normal, he slowly sat them both up and leaned against the back of the couch, still keeping her tucked close to him.

"I have to say..."

"Be gentle on me, please," he interrupted. "My mind still isn't working at a hundred percent. Not after that."

"Don't interrupt. I just wanted to say that a few minutes ago, I was pretty annoyed at you for pulling away like that. Getting me all hot and bothered and then pulling away? Not good, Castle."

Castle? Not Rick? Uh oh. "Annoyed? But I thought-"

"Didn't I tell you not to interrupt? But once again, you were the rational one, and after realizing that your daughter could see us going at it if she came down the stairs for a glass of water or something-a fact which, once again, you made me totally forget-it made me glad about your level of awareness."

Whew. She just wanted more. And then he realized...she wanted _more._ He felt a silly grin overtake his face. "Thank you. I think."

"How do you do that, anyway?"

"Do what?"

"Remember where you were, and that we weren't alone when we were getting..."

"Hot and heavy?" She nodded, and she felt him shrug in response. "I don't know...I think it's something that happens to you when you become a parent. There's some weird extra sense or something; it's something that always has you on alert on some level. You're just more aware on some level...it's kind of hard to explain. I remember that I used to be able to sleep through anything. A freight train could be going along at 60 miles per hour in the next room and I wouldn't wake up. But as soon as Alexis was born, it all changed somehow." He paused for a moment, obviously remembering, and she could see by the look on his face that they were very fond and treasured memories for him. "She could let out the tiniest little whimper, and I'd be awake. After a few months, sometimes she'd wake up and she wouldn't really cry right away, but she'd still make some little noises anyway. I'd still hear them. And I'd still be dead tired, but I'd wake up, and I'd go into her room to see what she needed, and there she'd be, laying there, and when she saw me she'd just give me the biggest grin. And it's the middle of the night, you know, and I was trying to get some sleep because I was dead tired. Anyone else that wakes you up then...they don't fare so well, you know? They get the full wrath of my sleep-deprived evil twin; kind of like Perlmutter on a bad day." She had to chuckle at that; referencing the surly ME definitely evoked the image of a bad mood. "But there was this little person there, and she was just smiling and cooing at me, and even though she woke me up, there was no way that I could even be the tiniest bit mad at her. How could I be? Even if she was sick, or was hungry, or needed to be changed, she still looked at me that same way. When someone looks at you like that...like you're the most important thing, the best thing in the world to them? There's no way that a sane person wouldn't give up a little sleep for that."

As she listened, she had Martha's words echo in her mind, when Martha had told her that Rick's public image was very different from the man that he really was. Now, hearing him talk about when his daughter was a baby was a testament to that difference. As he was talking, he seemed genuinely nostalgic about remembering his daughter's babyhood. Most guys that she knew would complain about their kids crying all night, or spitting up, or any of the not-so-pleasant aspects of parenthood. But Rick? The man who could well afford a nanny so he wouldn't have to be bothered by those mundane aspects of child-rearing? No, he seemed to not only like them, but embrace them and revel in them. Hearing him talk about his unabashed love for his little daughter who woke him up in the middle of the night was heartwarming. And endearing. And it was just plain sweet. And all of that sweetness that this man seemed to have inside of him just made her feel a little gooey inside. Her bones had melted from his kisses, but it seemed that her heart had melted just a bit from his heartfelt words.

He must have noticed her silence, because he looked down at her. He must have realized then that he'd given a rather long and detailed explanation to her simple question, and he almost seemed embarrassed by it now, probably because of her silence. He muttered, "Sorry. Didn't mean to go off on a tangent there. That was probably more of a sermon on parenthood than you expected."

She looked up at him, and touched her fingers gently to his cheek as she said, "No, don't apologize. It was sweet, and I'm glad that you told me. I've just had this image of you in my head for a long time, and that image has really taken a beating in the last week."

"Oh." He sounded somewhat crestfallen, as if he was saddened by what he thought she heard.

But it was obvious that he misunderstood her, so she clarified, "Rick, the new image of you that I'm seeing is better than the old one. So much better. That old image is dying a slow death, and believe me, as far as I'm concerned, that's a good thing."

"Really?" His voice now held a hopeful, surprised quality.

"Really," she told him sincerely, giving him a chaste kiss on his cheek.

They stared at each other for a moment before she settled back against him. "I suppose I could stay another day or two...you know, get used to your stairs before I try to tackle all of mine. I guess you do have a point about that."

Even though she wasn't looking at his face, she could almost feel him smile as he digested her words. She felt his hand rub her arm as he said, "It does make sense, you know."

"Don't gloat," she lightly scolded him.

"With you? Wouldn't dream of it. Just happy to have you here for a while longer."

They sat in silence for the next several minutes, just happy to be snuggled together. He was still absently rubbing her arm, and she was getting lulled by the feeling of those gentle fingers on her arm, and by his chest as it rose and fell. Her mind drifted to what had happened between them before he'd, once again, put a stop to it. "Rick?"

"Kate, are you trying to start something again by saying my name like that?" he asked teasingly, referring to their earlier conversations about her use of his first name for 'romantic' situations.

"No, but about that..."

"Yes?" he prompted.

"We...if I stay here a few more days, we shouldn't...as much as I'm, uh, tempted, we can't..." she trailed off, not sure how to phrase it so she didn't sound like a schoolgirl or a prude.

She felt him press a kiss into her hair. "I know."

But she felt like he needed more of an explanation. "I mean, I _am_ tempted. I'm _really_ tempted sometimes, like before. But we've really only been trying this...this..."

"Relationship?" he prompted.

She sighed, still somehow wary of calling it that, but she had to admit it was the truth. "Relationship," she confirmed somewhat hesitantly. "Anyway, we've only been in this relationship for what? A week? Officially, anyway. So, you know, I've slept with guys before-"

"You _have_?" he asked with exaggerated fake shock as he pulled back to look at her. "God, Kate, don't burst my bubble! I thought you were pure as the driven snow. And now I find out-"

She cut him off with a swat to his arm. "Oh, shut up and let me finish." She shifted to lean against the back of the couch, facing him, and he mirrored her position.

"Sorry. Couldn't resist. And I think I know what you're trying to say anyway. It goes along with that whole thing about taking this slowly, right?"

"Mm hmm," she acknowledged, grateful to not have to explain further. "Sounds kind of stupid, given that we're adults, and..." Her words trailed off, emphasizing just how silly she felt, having this conversation. Her eyes left his face and she looked down at the cushion of the couch.

He pursed his lips as if he was thinking about what she said. Then he nodded slightly before he began slowly, "You know, it's probably a good idea that things didn't go any farther tonight, actually."

"Oh?" She wasn't sure where he was going with his comment.

"Yes. Because you have to work tomorrow." He reached a finger over and touched her gently under her chin, tilting her face up until her gaze met his once again. He wanted her to be looking at him when he made his next proclamation in a low, husky, deadly serious voice. "And Kate, I'm just going to warn you right now that when we cross that line the first time, you'd better not plan to go to work or anywhere else anytime soon. Because once you're finally there, there's no way I'm letting you out of my bed for at least a day or two."

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><p><em><strong>Since I posted the last chapter, the dam in my creative brain has burst and ideas (specific ideas, like dialog) for this story have been leaking out. Right now, I think they're good. And I hope you'll stick with me to see where the story leads. That said, even though this chapter progressed in a somewhat different fashion than how I had it mapped out, I ended up really liking how it turned out, and I hope my readers like it too.<strong>_

_**As always, I do very much appreciate those readers who take the time to leave me their comments. If you are one of those, I sincerely thank you and know this...you are the BEST!**_

_**Lastly...Happy New Year, everyone!**_

_**I'm happy to bring you this update relatively quickly after the delay of Chapter 7. For those of you who are still with me, thanks for reading.**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**I love how so many of you liked the little makeout scene! Funny! Thanks for all of the comments and reviews for the last chapter. I was so happy to see the response, even though it was posted on a holiday.**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.**_

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><p><em>Previously: Rick convinced Kate to stay at his loft for at least a few more days, at least until she got used to the boot. He also made quite the proclamation at the end of their discussion. The chapter, in my opinion, is much better, so if you don't remember, just go back and read it. And the proclamation is much better in context. :)<em>

Once Rick realized that Kate's goal of going home no longer had the concrete deadline of having her building's elevator being fixed, and that she could literally go home whenever she wanted, he set about using his inherent creativity and no small amount of charm to keep Kate at his loft through the rest of the work week and over the weekend; basically as long as he could. Even though she was putting a lot of effort into being less uptight and analytical about every little thing in their new relationship, he suspected that it probably still wouldn't take much to make her send her running, making excuses, rationalizing that they shouldn't be together. So when he initiated his campaign (after a clandestine request to his daughter for a small amount of help), he had to use all of that charm that he had plus any latent acting skills that he'd received from his mother to make his master plan seem as thought it was nothing more than merely his own ability to settle down.

He arranged movies at home (after he assured her that he'd taken care of the inappropriate channel problem from a few days before), he took her to a Broadway show, he asked for her help in trying elaborate new recipes that could not reasonably be done by one person, while, of course, Alexis and Martha were conveniently out. He sent her and Alexis off to a spa for massages, insisting that she had to go to keep Alexis company, and besides, he reasoned, her muscles were probably tight after using the crutches for so long and she could no doubt use it. She would have liked to argue that point with him, but, damn him, he was right; her muscles were tight from the crutches, from all of the sitting, from not being able to work out. She protested the plans, she argued over the activities and she glared at him in her most intimidating fashion when he just gave her a gargantuan grin in response. But he simply challenged her to relax, challenged her to not obsess, obviously reminding her of her own idea to not over-analyze every little thing. And he had her there. And even after all of that, he still arranged a very touristy horse-drawn carriage tour around Central Park. She laughed and rolled her eyes when he told her where they were going and, true to her nature and very much against her resolution, very quickly tried to argue her way out of it.

She said those things were tourist traps. He said it would be fun.

She said she was a native New Yorker and didn't need a tour. He argued that she might just learn something; often the locals didn't know as much about the city as they thought.

She said she'd read a book to learn about the city. He said it would be more fun than reading a book.

She said she didn't need to have a horse pull her around a park where they frequently found dead bodies as part of her job. He told her that of course she didn't _need_ it, called her a Debbie Downer again and told her to develop temporary amnesia about the dead body thing.

She said it was a waste of his money. He said he had a lot of money, and besides, it was romantic.

She said no way. He just shook his head with a smile and said their tour was at nine p.m.

And at ten minutes past nine, she was sitting in the back of a carriage, with Rick's arm around her, and they were both snuggled under a mound of blankets. She listened to the city noises of a still-bustling Sunday night in the city that never sleeps, amidst the rhythmic and surprisingly soothing sound of the horses' hooves clip-clopping on the pavement. And when she looked up at the tall buildings around her, she could see that fat, fluffy snowflakes had begun to fall, with each flake being somewhat illuminated by the lights of the city as all of those unique flakes floated down to earth around them. The gently falling snow fit in with the scene so perfectly that she wondered if Rick had arranged that somehow, too.

"Warm enough?" he asked, tipping his face so his hot breath tickled her ear as he whispered the question to her.

"Yes, but I also would have been quite warm sitting in your living room in front of the fire." Just by the very nature of their relationship, she had to give him a little bit of grief, didn't she?

Totally unaffected by her comment, as usual, he just grinned and said, "But where's the fun in that?" he asked.

And really, when the question was posed like that, when they were being taken around the city on a beautiful winter night, doing such a typically touristy activity but still one she had never tried, she really couldn't come up with any further protestations that didn't sound, well, whiny. And she _had_ made her decision to 'go with the flow', she reminded herself. Days ago, actually. And even though it was quite obvious that Castle was engineering the direction of the flow that she was trying to go with, she was beginning to realize that it wasn't always a bad thing. That heavenly massage that she'd had yesterday with Alexis had gone a long way toward convincing her of that.

Somewhere during the course of the day, it had occurred to her that this time of staying at Castle's loft was almost like a little vacation without going away from home. What did they call it these days...a stay-cation? She was still going to work, but when she wasn't at work, Castle was making sure that there was always something to do. After experiencing a few days of his exhuberance in keeping her occupied, she laid awake in her bed-well, in the bed in Castle's guest room-for a few hours the night before just going over everything in her mind. Her gut instinct for so long had been to resist him. For so long, she fought the mutual attraction that she knew was there, even thought she didn't even realized until recently that she'd been doing it. She engaged in the innuendo volleys with him, but she'd always unconsciously resisted taking it further. There were the loaded looks, but that was the end of it. They both dated other people, even while engaging in that strange dance with each other. But now that they'd crossed that invisible line of going from friends or some sort of strange colleagues to actually dating, she was seeing that even though her automatic instinct to resist him was still there, sometimes it was definitely better to just let him take over once in a while.

To let him take care of her.

When she thought of it like that, the thought-on a gut-reaction, instinctual level-still filled her with a certain amount of apprehension and dread. Because she'd always thought that implying that someone was taking care of her-or that she needed someone to take care of her-was akin to admitting some level of weakness. She could take care of herself. She always had. She was strong. But as she laid there in that comfortable bed and her thoughts swirled around, she remembered him helping her after she'd sprained her ankle; the chair in the bathroom, the bags of snow that he would make to ice her ankle, the walking stick that he found for her to use. All of those things she could have done for herself, though to do them herself would have required a great deal more effort on her part. She accepted his help then. And she realized that some of the things that he'd been doing over the past week were just extensions of that. He wasn't taking away her strength or independence. He was just trying to make things easier for her, through simple caring. Her mind flitted to all of the times that he brought her coffee over the last number of years. She knew that she was very capable of getting coffee on her own. She had for years before he came along. But now, she accepted his offers of coffee unquestioningly. Why could she accept his coffee-for _years_, no less-yet she had found it so hard to accept other things from him, other decisions that he made?

She didn't have a good answer for that. Actually, she did have an accurate answer, but she wasn't going to deem it a _good_ answer because if she did that, she would have to face some facts that she didn't necessarily want to face. She would have to face the fact that she had unilaterally given him the unspoken designation of her coffee supplier, but that was all. Supplying her coffee was a task he took seriously, because he never seemed to shirk his duty. And she'd come to rely on him for that, and he'd never disappointed her. But at the same time, as she looked at it now, it made her feel like she'd been using him. But it had been easy to compartmentalize the coffee supplying, and now it made her feel badly when she hadn't taken kindly to him trying to take care of her in other ways. And once she realized it, she knew that to be fair to this new relationship that they were trying to build, she wouldn't be able to put limits on his caring, or how he showed he cared (within reason, of course).

She knew, of course, that there _were_ reasonable limits. But if she tried to think about it objectively, she had to admit that accepting an appointment for a massage from a guy you're dating was not an off-the-wall thing to do. She knew a lot of women would kill for their significant others to think of them that way, and normally even if they did, it would involve a lot of hinting and usually a special occasion that the gesture could be linked to, like a birthday. But Rick, no...he just knew. And he was right. She was often amazed at how he anticipated her needs before she did, like with the chair in the bathroom after she'd hurt her ankle. Now, if he tried to buy her a car, that would be well outside of the reasonable limit. But she was beginning to see that perhaps she'd been resisting other tangible efforts of his caring more on principle, and flawed principle at that, rather than because there was actually a valid reason to resist.

Now, as she sat in the carriage with the man who had occupied her thoughts so much over the last week, the man who was currently snuggled very closely against her, all of that rumination that she'd done the night before seemed silly. Because despite everything, despite all of the deep thoughts, the protestations and the doubts, she had an overwhelming sense of one thing: there was nowhere else that she would rather be right now. The feeling of rightness washed over her yet again. She smiled to herself and turned her head toward him.

Always aware of her movements, he felt her turn, and turned his head toward her in response. He was already having a great time with her there; just the mere fact that he'd gotten her there despite her protests was enough for him. And being snuggled with her under the blankets of the carriage to keep the chill from the winter night away from them...well, that was just icing on the cake. But when he saw her face as he turned, he wasn't prepared for the content smile that was on her face, nor did he anticipate when she leaned up to him and touched her lips to the corner of his mouth in a little kiss. His shock over the un-Katelike gesture, given the context, surprised him so much that he couldn't even respond before she followed the kiss with a simple "Thanks."

"For what?" he asked instinctively.

She leaned her head against his shoulder. "For this. It really is...nice. Kind of hokey, but still nice." When her words settled into his brain, he smiled.

"Sometimes a bit of hokey makes it a lot more nice."

"You're a best-selling author and you say things like that?" she chided.

He shrugged. "Sometimes actions speak louder than words. Even hokey actions." And actions, he thought, were sometimes a lot more safe than words in dealing with a girlfriend who was skittish about your relationship in the first place and would have likely had a relationship panic attack if she'd known the thoughts that had been going through his head the last few days.

She nodded and looked out at the city, the sights that they were seeing. She caught sight of a familiar sight off in the distance. "Uh oh," she murmured.

"What?" he asked in a low voice. "No, Kate, don't tell me...did you forget to go to the bathroom?" he asked with a straight face, although it was obvious from the exaggerated tone and the twinkle in his eye that he was joking.

"Always the dad, huh?" She rolled her eyes. "No, I was just thinking that your little amnesia suggestion didn't work. I see the Carousel."

He knew where she was going. "Dunn. His second victim. On the carousel."

"Occupational hazard, I guess." She shrugged.

"No, you just need to work harder at distraction. Me? I'm a master of distraction. I've perfected the art," he bragged smugly.

"Okay, Mr. Distraction, tell me how I can forget about the dead bodies."

"Ah, my student, it's all about memories. You only need to have more powerful memories that overshadow any of the less desirable ones."

"Well, apparently that's a problem for me then. Because you know where-"

Her words were cut off by the hand of the man beside her snaking around the back of her neck to pull her face toward his, where their lips met in a surprising, but tender, kiss. Whenever he surprised her like that, she never failed to feel that little kick in her belly, and this time was no different, not that she would admit that to him. His teeth lightly nipped her lip as his lips warmed hers with the kiss. The kiss was leisurely, but at the same time it was over all too soon. He pulled back with a smile.

"Know what that was?" he asked.

"Castle, I'm not twelve. I think I can figure out that that was a kiss." It was a hell of a kiss, but she didn't voice that thought.

"Ah," said as the carriage went around a gradual curve. "That was not just any kiss. That was a distraction, and a new memory. Now, thanks to me, you see, you'll be able to think of something else whenever you see that carousel."

"So are you saying that for every place that we've ever found a dead body, you're just going to try to kiss me senseless?"

At her adjective, his eyebrow raised. Leave it to him to catch _that_ particular word. "Senseless?" he asked in a smug tone.

She lightly whacked him on the chest. "If you heard that, you should have also noticed that I said _try_ to kiss me senseless." The look that he gave her next told her that he didn't appreciate her implication that his kisses might be anything less than potent in their sense-limiting capabilities, so she took a small bit of pity on him. "But it was a nice kiss, I'll grant you that."

He turned his head and looked out at the park, obviously satisified with her last compliment. "Every place..." he muttered.

"What?"

"You suggested that I kiss you in _every place_ that we've ever found a dead body."

She shook her head. My, how the man could use creative interpretations! "I did _not_ say that! I was being sarcastic about your rationale and your goal for distracting me with the kiss."

"Well, then...can I say that I will be quite happy to conveniently overlook your obvious sarcasm and deem myself very up to your challenge? I mean, just the thought of getting to kiss you at _every_ place we've found a body..."

She rolled her eyes. She knew it was futile to try to argue with him any further. So she took the opposite approach. "Well, _Rick_," she started, saying his name in that way that she knew was highly distracting for him, "I must say that your method of...uh...distraction will certainly make new crime scenes interesting. But I think Ryan and Esposito will probably catch on that there's something going on between us if we start to lock lips that frequently. Plus, they might get jealous. You'd probably have to give them each a kiss too."

He'd been listenening to her intently, especially since she said his name _that_ way. And like whenever she said his name _that_ way, he got lost in the fantasy. But when she mentioned Ryan and Esposito, it was like someone had doused him with cold water. He looked at her smiling face. "Not funny," he told her. "Why'd you have to go and ruin the fantasy? Next thing, you're probably going to start mentioning the old lady."

She laughed at the look on his face, and the way he very dramatically, but still somewhat affectionately, called his mother the 'old lady' just like he had done when they were in the Hamptons. Unable to resist, she wrapped an arm around his midsection, bulky from the blankets and all of the outerwear that they wore, and gave him a little squeeze as she popped a quick kiss on the bottom of his jaw. "Now, since your fantasy is ruined anyway, what do you say we stop talking and actually enjoy the ride? You dragged me out here, Castle. It's not fair to keep talking and distracting me and making me miss all of these wonderful sights."

"You're maligning my methods of distraction?" He tried to sound affronted.

She gave him a look. "Focus, Rick. I'm supposed to learn something, right?"

He shrugged. "If you really want to. Otherwise, we can just snuggle under the city lights," he suggested slyly.

She pretended to think about it. "Nah. Teach me something." As if on cue, his eyes widened just a bit as he looked at her, once again looking affronted at her not taking him up on his suggestion. He looked to the sky, and then he looked back at her, as if to give her another chance to change her mind. She simply raised her eyebrow at him and bobbed her head toward the driver.

After shaking his head once more in mock disbelief, he got the attention of the carriage driver. "The lady has decided that she'd like to see what wonderful bits of knowledge you can impart to her about our fair city. So we will be listening with rapt attention to what I'm sure will be your enthralling discourse."

She rolled her eyes at his overly verbose request. "Couldn't you just say 'Go for it?' or something simple?" she whispered to him.

"Where's the fun in that?" he asked with a grin, pulling her a little closer to him to apparently still take advantage of that alternate suggestion of snuggling that he'd just made. No reason you couldn't be comfortable while you were learning something, right?

They settled in while the driver started in on his factoids about the park through which they were still riding. If questioned, both of them would have had to truthfully admit that they were learning a few interesting, if utterly useless, facts about the park and the city. Still it was indeed interesting. After sitting comfortably and listening for several minutes, they were contentedly riding down a peaceful road past a snow-covered field when Kate mumbled something under her breath. The driver had paused in his recitations, and Rick asked, "What?"

"Daniel Goldstein." And she bobbed her head toward the field.

"Huh?"

"How could you _not_ remember him? Duel? DeLorean? Steampunk? God, Rick, the time-traveling killer? Anyway, that's where we found him." And she bobbed her head again.

He gave her a look. "Kate, are you asking for me to distract you again?"

"No. Not at all. But you can't say I didn't warn you."

"Yes, but I had no idea that dating an uber-practical cop would make it this hard to inject a little romance into the relationship. Sheesh!" Back was the laughingly affronted look that Castle could do so well.

"Well, then do you just want to call it quits if it's too tough for you?"

The words, spoken in a sassy, teasing tone, were out of her mouth before she could stop them, a seemingly natural progression of the light banter of their conversation. But once they were out in the cold air of the night, it seemed that they froze like the snowflakes that were falling around them, but the words seemed to hang in the air and surrounded them. And as they froze, they lost all of their lightness, and they took on a heavy seriousness instead. The driver had heard them talking and hadn't gone back to his discourse of Central Park trivia, so the words just sat between them as the smiles left their faces as they both realized what had really been said. What hadn't really meant to be voiced, but was still hanging between them.

Because they both knew that it was carelessly spoken words like those that often led to silly arguments or harsh breakups.

As soon as he heard them, Castle knew that they were some semblance of the words that he'd been unconsciously dreading that he'd hear come out of her mouth at some point. Words that would mean the end their fledgling relationship; the end of the dream that was building in his mind, about a future with the two of them. They were staring at each other as the horse plodded along, the clip clopping of the hooves the only sound that could be heard besides the muted sounds of the city. Someone needed to say something, and looking at her, he knew it wouldn't be her; she'd already said enough, and from the look on her face, she was at least a little bit surprised at what had come out of her mouth. Honestly, in those first few moments afterwards, she looked stunned into silence. But as he looked into her eyes, he saw something else. Was it...fear?

And with that look, he decided to take a shot. If there was a chance that she was actually _afraid_ that he would take her words to heart...well, then he knew he had a chance to mitigate the potential damage, a good chance. He knew she wasn't looking for a way out. He knew he couldn't say much, because of how uncertain he suspected she still was about their relationship, but he could say this. He needed to say this, to make it perfectly clear to her. Because even despite the original joking tone of the statement, it was no joke now.

"Quit? On Us? Never. And it's definitely not too tough, although it _is_ a little ego-deflating. But it's obvious that I'll just have to try a little harder in the romance department. You definitely _are_ a challenge, Detective." And then he punctuated his statement with what he hoped was a cocky grin. And he waited, frozen once again, trying to see if that cocky grin and his words were enough.

And after several very long seconds, he saw her eyes answer in response, the previous glimmer of fear now replaced with something like relief. When he saw that look, and when he saw the small smile that formed on her lips, he smiled a larger smile, the fake cockiness replaced by genuine relief and happiness.

He relaxed into the seat again, saying a few words to the driver to let him know that they were paying attention again, squeezing her arm as he made sure that she was still tucked closely to him. The driver resumed his discourse, and as the carriage continued to carry them through the wintery New York City night, the Detective and the Author settled against each other again, reveling once more in the feeling of being snuggled together under the blankets against the cold of the winter night. But now they just blissfully listened to the driver, rather than trying to converse themselves. Because after what had just nearly happened, neither wanted to take the chance of saying the wrong thing. And sometimes, saying nothing was the best thing that could be said.

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><p><em><strong>I hope that wasn't too strange for all of you, shifting between the thoughts and the banter. And the last little foot-in-mouth moment...has that ever happened to anyone? Where you say something, something even joking or seemingly innocuous, and something is either taken wrong or comes out wrong and the whole conversation just goes downhill from there? Snowball effect. And these two, well, they don't have great communication as it is, so it stands to reason that they just put their feet in their mouths sometimes. But now I suppose they're even, with Castle making the "Nothing says 'I love you'..." comment from Chapter 3, and now Beckett making this comment about a potential breakup.<strong>_

_**So did anyone catch my little attempt at alliteration?**_

_**So...thoughts? Did you like it? Did you not like it? Let me know!**_


	10. Chapter 10

_**Back with another chapter. **_

_**In the last couple of chapters that I posted, I've been referencing parts of 'Blizzard'. It fits, since this story is a direct continuation of that one. So if any of you haven't read that one, I'd advise you to read it, and then I think this story and some of the references will make more sense.**_

_**Thanks VERY much to those who commented on the last chapter! And I'm glad that some of you can relate to that 'foot-in-mouth' moment. gmay, you sort of guessed part of what I was going to do with this chapter. Docvap, so happy you enjoyed it and thought it worked. YouSpeakToMySoul, thanks, and I'm glad you 'got' how he took the reins and took care of her after her slip-up. Mark C, glad you liked the chapter, and your summary was great.**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.**_

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><p>It seemed to be a weekend for bedtime relationship ruminations, because after they got home from the carriage ride and eventually retired to bed, Kate simply laid awake going over what had happened earlier on the carriage ride. The whole thing, despite Castle being endearingly hokey, was really going pretty well. She found that she was enjoying the excursion. And then...then she had to go and ruin it by saying those words that she did, those words that <em>implied<em> that she was looking for an out, when absolutely the only thing she had really _meant_ by the remark was simply to give him a hard time, all in fun, like they always did. But it had backfired so spectacularly. It was too bad that it wasn't until the words were already out of her mouth that she realized how they sounded.

And then...leave it to Castle to rescue her. She knew he could be hurt by her careless words...she'd already done that when he'd incorrectly assumed that his reputation was the reason that she didn't want anyone at the precinct to know about their relationship right away. She'd gotten out of it then on her own (and by whipping a plum at him), but this time, he was the unlikely person who had come to her rescue. And for once, she was glad, she was _so_ glad that he didn't listen to her, didn't pick up on the cue that she really didn't mean to give him in the first place. She'd told the Captain once that the man was incapable of taking anything seriously. Well, she knew from the look in his eyes that he took her comment seriously. Too seriously; more seriously that even he had intended. But then something-she didn't know what, but she thanked her lucky stars for it-made him give her that half-joking response to her statement. And sometime, if she ever got brave enough to talk about things like that honestly and openly with him, she would thank him for it. For not letting one careless comment let the doubts in to ruin what they had started to build between them.

But then, after that...then she found out how wrong, how totally off the mark she really was. And she was left reeling.

She thought about how when they got back, she just couldn't talk about it right then. But she took some of his words to heart...actions speak louder, or better, than words sometimes. And in her case, at least right now, more eloquently. So even though it was late when they got back to the loft, she shyly asked him if he had any good wine. And then she asked if he wouldn't mind turning on the fireplace, citing that even though the carriage ride was warm enough, it would still be nice to have a fire after being out in the cold winter night. He looked at her oddly for a moment when he heard her request, but then a smile bloomed on his face as he started getting everything ready. She was about to sit on the couch but then she walked over to the closet where, after living in his loft for a week, she now knew he kept some extra blankets. After grabbing a couple, she put a thick, fluffy one on the back of the couch for them to sit on, and then sat down on top of it. She quickly unwrapped her foot from the boot and tucked her legs up on the couch side of her, being careful not to torque the foot too much in any strange direction.

When she saw Rick walk back into the room with the wine and a couple of glasses, she patted the blanket covered couch next to her. All in silence, he poured the wine and handed her a glass before settling down himself, and then she handed her glass back to him and she spread out the other blanket over the top of the two of them. Then she took her own glass back and took a sip, giving him a hum of appreciation before relaxing against him.

She tipped her head down to rest on his chest as he lifted a hand and began to run his fingers through the long brown strands of her hair. Neither one seemed in any hurry to do anything else, even thought they'd barely spoken. But finally, as he continued combing her hair with his fingers, she raised her head up to him and said, "I did have a good time tonight, so thank you." Normally, she would have expected a joke from him, something about it not being _that_ hard to let go and have a good time, or about him having good ideas. But she still didn't feel like things were totally normal between them, not after her comment. They were close, sure, but they were still treading lightly with each other.

"Not too cold? I mean, with all of this..." he gestured to the blankets and the fire. "I mean, I know you said-"

"No, Castle. Not too cold. Finishing out the evening this way just seemed...appropriate, somehow." Sitting here, together, fire, wine...romance. She knew he'd talked about it regarding the carriage ride, before she'd said what she'd said. Romance. And this was certainly romantic, them sitting here like this. And she hoped that by suggesting it, she was just reinforcing the fact that she wasn't serious about what she'd said about 'calling it quits.'

But then an errant thought popped into her head, and it made her sit up. "But, I'm sorry...did you want to go to bed? I shouldn't have assumed..." she trailed off, obviously all of a sudden thinking that she'd inconvenienced him from beginning his nightly slumber.

But her words conjured one image in his mind, and although it was a brief, fleeting image, it was still there for just long enough for him to be aware of it. The image of Kate, in his bed, for reasons other than sleeping. And the self control that he'd drilled into himself in relation to her all of these years took over and forced that image out of his brain as quickly as it had gotten in there. Sure, he'd warned her about what would happen when they finally crossed that line, but until then, it was just something that was better not thought of. Not until he was sure that he wasn't going to scare her off by getting too serious.

And Kate, in her own mind, was, for the second time that night, regretting her words as soon as they'd left her mouth. 'Go to bed', she'd said. And oh, with the level of innuendo and banter in which they typically engaged, that comment could have so much mileage. And she waited for his quick wit, but was surprised when he gave her only the most G-rated comment: "No, I'm not sleepy yet. And you're right; this is a nice way to end the evening after the carriage ride."

"Good." _Good? _Was that all she could say? How lame was that. Could she no longer have a conversation with the man? Or at least one that didn't involve her putting her foot in her mouth in one way or another?

They sat in silence for several more minutes, and both just sipped their wine while Rick absently continued to play with Kate's hair, sometimes combing his fingers through it, sometimes doing something that felt to her like he was twirling it around his fingers.

Finally, once she relaxed a bit more, she remembered a question that she'd been wondering when she'd been alone. In light of her recent foot-in-mouth syndrome, she rehearsed what she wanted to say in her mind, and finding nothing potentially traumatic or innuendo-inducing about her words, asked him, "So, I've been thinking...you said a week ago-a week ago tonight, as a matter of fact-that you wanted to take me on a real date, once I got a little more mobility back. Well, since I've been walking on and off with the boot for several days now, and since you've turned into a tour guide organizing a whirlwind of activities lately, I'm wondering which one was the 'official' date. Was it the Broadway Show? Was it the carriage ride? The movie marathon with twenty thousand different kinds of take out? Or was it that elaborate dinner that you cooked on Friday night? I would have suggested the massage as one of the possibilities, but that was with Alexis, and I'm sure you didn't mean for our big official date to be me with your daughter."

"No," he finally said. "To you dating my daughter," he said, and then grimaced. "Ew, that sounds..."

"Creepy?"

"Yeah. No, that was just a...girl's...thing. A thing that girls do. You know. She's a girl, and you are too."

"Glad you noticed," she said dryly.

"Oh, believe me, I noticed," he said in a deep voice, and then leaned down to quickly press a hot kiss against her neck. "I spend a lot of time noticing, actually," he confessed.

"I just bet you do," she told him, but didn't make any move to swat him away on principle like she normally would have; his lips against her neck felt too good.

But he raised up all too soon, confessing, "But, well...the date. I guess really, uh, none of them were the date." He took a sip of his wine.

"None of them?"

He shook his head. "No."

She turned toward him. "Castle, we've done all of these very date-like things. How can none of them possibly be the infamous first date?"

"It just can't, okay? Our first date...it has to be special. It has to be well planned out, and memorable."

"The play...that's a very hot ticket right now. I know they're hard to find. How can seeing a popular play-and a good one, at that-_not_ be memorable?"

"It was a matinee," he told her haughtily, as if that explained everything.

"So...?" she prompted.

"So we hardly dressed up. And then we-"

"-came back to the loft for a wonderful dinner. Sounds like a date to me." She shrugged and took a sip of her wine.

"No." She was suprised at how adamant he sounded about it. "It wasn't the date."

"But it _was_ a date. And since we haven't had a date yet, then it must have been our first date. Logic, Castle."

"No. That was _not_ our date." If she thought he sounded adamant before, he sounded even moreso now. Calmly, precisely adamant. "And I don't care about your logic. I'm planning this out in my head...our perfect date. I have plans, Beckett. So do _not_ get all logical on me and ruin my plans."

She had been leaning against him, but now she raised up and turned around to look at him. "Um...Rick, honey? Are you feeling okay?" She placed a hand on his forehead as if to check for fever. "Because you're getting a little bit weird about this."

"But I have these plans, and you're trying to be all logical. And your logic is ruining my plans!"

"So you've told me before," she muttered, thinking that the statement sounded like deja vu. "Okay, suppose you tell me about these plans."

"I can't."

"You can't? Why not?""

"Because then they won't be a surprise. And then I won't be able to dazzle you if it's not a suprise." He said the last sentence as if it was a big 'duh' statement; as if she should have known without even having to ask.

"Rick, I don't need to be dazzled."

He picked up her hand, the one that wasn't holding the wine glass, and brought it to his lips for a kiss. "Yes, Kate, you do need to be dazzled," he told her earnestly, in a low voice.

His lips had left a little tingle on her fingers, and the serious tone in which he said the words made her pause. "I..." The little tingle had traveled from her fingers to her belly. She took a sip of her wine for something to do, because all of a sudden, she didn't have words.

But he did, as he continued, in that same low, smooth voice, "Kate, we're going to get dressed up; me in a dashingly debonair suit, and you in a knockout of a dress. Maybe something red, or...blue. Yes...midnight blue, like the night sky as it glows with the lights from the city. You're going to put some of your hair up, but not all of it. You'd look so amazing. And we're going to go out to a nice restaurant. Maybe not the most flashy restaurant, but something with ambiance and excellent food. A limo is going to pick us up, and we're going to drive around for a little while, sip some champagne, and maybe...maybe I can steal a few kisses?" he suggested as he bent his head and did just that as they sat on the couch. Leaning back, he pulled her down with him as he continued. "When we've decided that we've had enough of the limo, we'll go to the restaurant. There will be several very angry women there by the end of the night, because you'll be so beautiful that every man in the place will be turning around, trying to get glimpses of you. You'll be so stunning that all of those men will just forget about their dates in favor of looking at you."

She rolled her eyes, but he shook his head at her briefly. "No, Kate. Don't underestimate the power you have. It's not just your inherent outward beauty, but it's your inner beauty that shines through too. It's a quality that you can't put into words. Believe me, I've tried." He paused, and she thought that even though he'd said the contrary, he was doing a mighty fine job with his words. She was almost entranced by his smooth voice again, the low timbre, the earnest tone. It would have been embarrassing if she didn't realize that he honestly believed everything he was saying. She could see the naked emotion in his eyes. And even though she was lost in watching him, part of her still realized the fact that he didn't seem to have taken her words to heart earlier. He didn't want out of their relationship. She was relieved by that, and to be honest, seeing all of that naked emotion scared her a little bit, because the intense look in his eyes made her wonder about the fluttery feelings in her own belly.

"I..." she began again, but then needed to take a breath before she could continue. Was her voice really that unsteady? "I thought you said you couldn't tell me about the date."

He narrowed his eyes and his face was transformed with a teasing grin. "Consider it a sneak peek. Just enough to whet your appetite, and to convince you that whatever we've done in the past few days...I may have enjoyed it immensely, but make no mistake: none of it was any semblance of what I'm planning for our _real_ first date."

"It..." she started again. God, where was her voice and what was it doing all of a sudden? "It sounds way too fancy for a first date, Rick. It sounds like..."

Oh, Lord, she almost said it that it sounded like he was trying to set the stage to propose to her or something! But thank goodness that, for once, she was actually able to stop the thought before she said it. But she still needed to finish her thought, because he was looking at her with that intensity again. "It just doesn't sound like a _first_ date, that's all."

He looked up in the air thoughtfully, waiting several seconds before he spoke. "I suppose you're right. But you said it yourself a week ago...any time that we go out and do anything, it could potentially be a date. Because we've been together so long and know each other well enough by now. So maybe it's more accurate to put that other word in there, to say 'first _real_ date'. Because when we're old and gray, I want to be able to look back and know that I did it right. So no, none of what we've done lately counts. Consider it...oh, I don't know...spending time together. But not our first _real_ date."

Here she was, sitting in front of the fire and drinking wine with him, trying to show him that she was content in their new relationship and that her big verbal gaffe from the carriage ride was just her putting her foot in her mouth; not that she was hinting around about breaking up already. She'd been so worried that he would think that, but obviously she'd been very wrong. Because of five words that he'd just spoken.

_'When we're old and gray.'_

Once again, she couldn't say anything. '_When we're old and gray.'_ All of the other words that he'd said somehow fell away until only those five remained in her mind. Well, that certainly didn't mince words, did it? 'We' and 'old and gray' in the same sentence...it only meant one thing.

Not slow. Not slow at all. 'Old and gray', and 'we' meant fast, and permanent relationships, and a thousand ways for her to screw it up before then. And it was just...fast...and...just, not slow. Not slow at all.

And she felt that punch in her gut again, but this time she knew the punch was panic.

She didn't realize it, but her eyes had grown wide at his words, once she realized what he'd said. And feeling the panic, she knew that she needed to be alone, before she said or did something else that was stupid. She needed to get calm, she needed to get her bearings.

And she couldn't do that with a pair of earnest-looking blue eyes gazing at her intently.

She mustered every ounce of control she could to polish off her glass of wine-she figured she needed it, after that, anyway-and then somewhat calmly (at least she hoped), she put the glass down on the table and rose off the couch. She made the mistake of glancing down into what were now very surprised blue eyes. But she steeled herself against the mesmerizing power of those eyes and announced, "I...uh, I think I'll turn in now." She leaned down and gave him a quick kiss on his lips, and then after she raised up, she couldn't resist touching his cheek as she said, "Thanks, Rick. The evening was...great. Really nice."

And then she, very slowly, turned and walked toward the stairs. About halfway there, she registered the twinge in her ankle; she wasn't used to walking full on it without the boot. But her need to flee-and flee in a manner that seemed outwardly calm, anyway-made her ignore the twinge and continue on, albeit slowly. And she continued on, to the upstairs bedroom that was now hers, trying with every fiber of her being to not look down toward the man she'd left sitting on the couch in the living room.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

She was there, and then she wasn't.

They'd been having the best conversation, where she'd drawn out of him what he'd wanted for their first date. Of course, he couldn't tell her everything, but he'd used his storytelling capabilities and he knew he had her. But then...then she just got up and left. And he sat there, stunned, as she very gingerly walked up the stairs, away from him.

And he sat there for another ten minutes, thinking about the evening, wondering about things. After what she'd said during the carriage ride, about them calling it quits, he felt like he was walking on eggshells. He thought his response to that comment was good, if not somewhat quickly thought-out. But she seemed okay with it, and then she asked to sit by the fire. She'd asked for wine.

And then she'd asked casually about the date. Was she opposed to the date? No, that couldn't be it. He thought back over their conversation, right before he'd seen her eyes get big and she'd left. He'd been talking about the date, and he'd explained to her why he didn't consider the excursions that they'd already done to be their 'date'. _Something_ had made her leave. Something _he said_ had made her leave; he knew it. He had a good recall for conversations, so he began to replay their conversation in his head. And then he froze when he replayed his own words in his head.

_'When we're old and gray.'_

Oh, crap.

He meant it. He meant every word of it. But right after that, she'd gotten big eyes and she'd fled. And he knew that's what it had to be.

Damn, Castle, he thought...so much for slow. He knew the woman was skittish about making a mistake, about going too fast, and then he has to throw long-term inferences in there.

He was usually better, more on-the-ball than that. He had to wonder, originally, if her comment about them breaking up wasn't some sort of a Freudian slip. Did she want him to call it quits for them? He'd taken a chance, back at the park in the carriage, that she didn't really mean what she'd said. And he knew now that she didn't. But that still didn't mean that she was ready for long-term references.

He was committed to this, to making it work with her. Already, he knew that she meant more to him in the short time they'd been 'officially' dating than any woman had in a long time. Maybe ever. Except for Alexis, of course, and she didn't count because she was his daughter. But as he glanced at the empty stairs, the stairs that he'd watched her creep up just a little while ago, he knew that he had to be careful, so he didn't blow it. He couldn't blow it; it meant too much. Too much was at stake.

So, sitting there, he made the resolution to follow her lead, to take his cues from her. And hopefully, he'd take them better than he had tonight. He didn't want to scare her off, and he'd just been given another lesson, just like the one earlier last week with the inadvertent 'I love you' comment, in how to NOT freak her out. Eventually, he wouldn't have to worry so much about that, but for now, he knew he did. So now, he had his notes, he had his rules for how to handle the likes of Kate Beckett: don't mention long-term, don't mention the distant future, and certainly don't mention...love.

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><p><em><strong>Ha ha! Just had to throw the sneak peek reference in there right after they release the sneak peeks for episode 4:11! (Actually, I did't really plan it that way, but the wording popped into my brain, and then it just kind of...fit.) <strong>_

_**I have to admit that I tried to turn some of you gooier people into a bit of mush with Castle's description of their first 'real' date. So I hope I succeeded, at least a little bit. If not, don't tell me; just let my ignorance be bliss. ;)**_

_**I hope I didn't turn anyone off with a bit of mild angst. Hey, the road is never smooth, is it? We all have these moments of sailing along blissfully, but then you hit a bump, and you start to question things. And then you get it sorted out, but then the other person hits a bump. And goes on and on until you both smooth out the bumps in the road. But then when you get there, it's really great. So I hope you hang on with me for the ride. I promise...it'll be good. And if not, you can shoot my virtual writer self or put me in fanfic writer's jail and charge me with excessive angstiness (is that a word?). **_

_**So...thoughts?**_


	11. Chapter 11

_**Just a note...maybe because people complain about the lack of continuity between episodes of this show, or maybe simply b/c I want to, I've been trying to put my own bits of continuity in this story, referencing things that were said/done in 'Blizzard', and also things that may have been done/said in earlier chapters of this story. We're all the sum total of our experiences, so I think that it's important to reference those things. Not dwell on them, per se, but remember them and tie them into the present story.**_

**_For my purposes, Esposito and Lanie are not dating. Or if they are, nobody knows about it yet._**

_**Enjoy!**_

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><p>It was strange.<p>

She'd been back at her apartment for three days, and in some respects, it still felt strange to be there. And that was ridiculous...it was _her_ apartment, after all. But after the last week and a half of living with Castle and his family at one or the other of his homes, it really did feel odd, especially that first night back in her own bed.

As they'd previously planned, she moved back to her own apartment the next day after their carriage ride in the park. He was never terribly enthusiastic about the idea, but he didn't try to stop her or convince her to stay any longer. She didn't get everything packed in the morning, so they packed that evening and then Castle took her back to her apartment after they ate dinner. Alexis had apparently gotten used to her being around, because when it was time for her to go, the teenager looked a bit uncomfortable, but then gave her a quick hug and asked her if she'd come back again soon; a genuine question, not just a platitude. Kate was a bit surprised by the obvious affection in the hug and sentiment, and promised that yes, of course she would, adding, with a wink and a smile, that they had to practice more French in front of her father to keep him guessing about if they were talking about him or not.

That last morning at his loft, the next morning after the 'old and gray' comment, wasn't as awkward as she thought it would be; frankly, it wasn't awkward at all. Castle was reading the newspaper when she came down for breakfast, and while he gave her a lazy smile and a good morning kiss, he just kept reading the paper, making off-the-wall comments about some of the articles. She was wearing her boot, and she thanked him for it; she'd found the boot and her crutches laying outside of her door after she awoke. He shrugged it off, but she gave him another kiss on his cheek with another heartfelt thank you, reminding him that it was a big thing to her because her foot still got stiff overnight. When she mentioned the stiffness, his eyes shot to her and he looked momentarily worried. It reminded her of the looks that he'd had any number of times when they were in the Hamptons, when he was worried about her leg. But then his eyes changed and he nodded, just telling her, "Glad to be of service," and he went back to reading his paper. She was a little surprised by him _not_ questioning her further about her foot, but she just figured that maybe he was growing out of his 'hovering' stage.

Her elevator still wasn't fixed yet, and she still had to use the stairs. The first time she used it after work, luckily Rick was with her and offered to help her carry a few things so she could concentrate on the steps. It was still slow going, but it was manageable. Kate was aware that both Alexis and Martha were out for the evening, basically because Rick 'just happened to mention it' at least six or seven times through the course of the day. She knew he was angling to be invited over to her apartment after they got done at the precinct, but so far she hadn't taken the bait. Outwardly, anyway; because she'd just kind of assumed he would come over, and actually, she found she was looking forward to it, to having some alone time with him, and to have it while being on _her_ turf for a change. But she didn't let him know that, or that she'd envisioned a quiet evening with the two of them. Through the course of the day, she watched as he gave some subtle and some not-so-subtle hints about not having anything to do that evening because everyone was out. The guys even got into the conversation at one point.

_They were sitting around and Esposito noticed that Castle was looking kind of down and asked him about it. Kate didn't even glance up at him, not wanting to be drawn into the drama. She'd tell him about her plans soon enough, but she wanted to see how blatant he could get with the hinting with her, but still keep it from the guys. _

_In response, Castle told him, "Well, it's just going to be so tedious and boring back at my loft tonight. Alexis has a test tomorrow and wanted to stay at her friend's house to study, and my mother apparently thinks she's sunk her hooks into a very distinguished gentleman. The poor schmuck is taking her to dinner and a show tonight."_

_"To say something is tedious and boring...isn't that kind of redundant?" Ryan asked absently. Castle shot him a glance under creased eyebrows, with a sarcastic look that said 'Funny.' Ryan said "Yeah, yeah, guy thinks he the only one that can make observations about the English language," and looked down to read something out fo the file he was holding._

_Then Kate chimed in, "I don't know, Castle. I'm sure you could find something to do. Don't you have that huge flatscreen TV?" She knew very well that he did, but was still very conscious of not letting on that she'd been staying with him, or that they were involved now. But at times like this, when things were slow, and when the opportunity presented itself soooo well, she just couldn't resist doing what she was about to do. "You can always sit home and see if you can find one of those...uh...adult channels, for your, uh, viewing enjoyment. I bet your service provider has a lot of those channels in your plan."_

_Esposito, who normally had such a stoic look on his face, was even surprised by Beckett's suggestion; she gave him grief, sure, but it wasn't usually that blatantly suggestive. And they could all see the suprise on Castle's face too. Although only Castle and Beckett knew that his surprise wasn't the result of the topic of the suggestion, but because of the suggestion itself; because of the channel that Beckett had accidentally found that night that Paula had surprised them, which of course was the channel that Beckett never would have found if she hadn't been staying with him. So if she didn't want people to know about them, then why in the world did she bring that up?_

_"I...uh..."_

_"God, Castle! You have those stations as part of your regular plan? Man, I bet you can-" Ryan exclaimed, but cut himself off when he saw Esposito glaring at him and making a very subtle 'cutthroat' motion across his neck. Ryan ceased with his comments._

_But by then, Castle had recovered enough to know that Kate was just baiting him, having a little fun with him when she knew he couldn't say anything. So he merely refuted her suggestion, "Au contraire, Detective. I do _not _have any of those types of channels in my satellite plan. I have a teenage daughter, if you remember." He raised his eyebrow at her. "Those channels would _not _be appropriate."_

_Ignoring what he said about the channels, Kate said to him, "Nice French, Castle. You seem to have a pretty good accent," she said, raising her own eyebrow back in response to him._

_"Well, thank you, Detective. It just so happens that Alexis has been studying French. She has a private...tutor, of sorts. I may have picked up on a few things...from the tutor. I've gotten really good at certain parts of...the language." He ended his words by leaving his lips in just a bit of a pucker, leaving no doubt to her that he was referring to the 'French lessons', the euphemism for kissing that he'd used often, early in their getaway to the Hamptons._

_"You don't say, Castle," Kate said, giving him a loaded look._

_"Your daughter has a private French tutor, Castle?" Esposito asked. "Is she, like really French, and, uh...hot?"_

_Castle turned and looked at Esposito, finally registered him after getting lost in his conversation with Kate...not to mention certain memories. "Huh?" he asked._

_"The French tutor...is she hot? You know what they say about the French...Ooo la la..." _

_Castle blinked at him for a long moment, and then he regained some of his senses and replied, "Hot? Um...yeah, I guess you could say she's hot."_

_"Hey, Castle, then maybe you could introduce us? You know, I know Spanish, she knows French...maybe we could trade notes on the...romance languages. Huh?" he prompted._

_"Uh...well, I..." he said, trying to keep up the charade because he knew damn well that Esposito's coworker/boss was the actual 'French tutor' and awkward situation that it was, he just needed a minute to formulate a response. "Uh, she's...uh, taken. Yeah, uh, not available. Sorry, Esposito." He tried to toss a sympathetic glance back at Esposito, and then looked back at Kate, who was watching the exchange with an interested expression on her face. For once, he couldn't fully read it, but at least he could tell that she wasn't as upset as the last time they were talking about 'Castle's hotties', as Ryan had termed them._

_"Oh, I get it, Castle," Ryan said then, getting back into the conversation. "You already nabbed her for yourself, huh? Is she teaching you a lot about the language of love?" Ryan started chuckling, that is until Esposito gave him a backhanded thwump on his shoulder, followed by a dirty look. _

_Cue the 'deer in the headlights' look for Castle. Even thought he answered honestly the last time he was 'questioned' like that from Esposito and Ryan, he couldn't do it this time. Because just a little more than a day ago, he'd made the promise to himself to avoid any mention of the word 'love' around Beckett. And even though he and Beckett were so far being really good at flying under Esposito's and Ryan's radar, he knew Beckett was still listening. If not for that last fact of Beckett being there, he would have just played along with the boys, engaged in some man-humor about a hot hypothetical French woman. But with Beckett sitting right there, watching his reaction, his own resolution ringing loudly in his brain, he knew he couldn't give his normal type of response because it would have contained _that_ word._

_"Uh...no. I just learned...uh...a word, here and there. Nothing big. So, uh..." he trailed off briefly, trying to get his mind back to where the conversation had been originally. "yeah. Maybe I'll just watch some of those other channels on my TV tonight. G-rated ones. Maybe I can find some Scooby Doo. Scooby's good."_

_Esposito shrugged. "I like Scooby Doo."_

_Ryan looked at both of them and echoed the shrug. "Scooby's cool."_

_Castle dared a glance at Beckett then, and pointedly asked her, "Scooby sound good to you, Detective?"_

_She just rolled her eyes at him and went back to her paperwork._

_And later, after they both decided to go to the break room for coffee, Esposito looked at Ryan and said, "Was that whole thing just kind of...weird?"_

_"Weird how?" Ryan asked._

_"Weird like...they were talking and we were talking, but we weren't talking about the same thing."_

_"Like there was some hidden meaning that we didn't know about?" Ryan paraphrased. Esposito nodded. Ryan thought about it, and then said, "Yeah. But that's just Castle and Beckett. You know they do that."_

_"Yeah. I guess they do. But it's still creepy."_

_"Oh, yeah," Ryan agreed._

So as he walked by her as she climbed the stairs in her building that night, Kate said out of nowhere, "So...Rick. Scooby Doo?"

"What? You don't like Scooby Doo?"

"I don't really have a problem with Scooby Doo. It's just...that's all you could think of? I mean, seriously? Scooby Doo?"

"Well, you had to ask about porno channels!"

"Yes, but the best you could come up with to refute that was a cartoon dog that can talk?"

"Res, Reckett," he replied in a Scooby imitation voice.

She rolled her eyes, and thankfully, by then, they were on her floor.

"Well, thanks for walking me up, Rick," she said when they got to her door. She still hadn't put him out of his misery by inviting him over for the evening. After she made her thank you, she sneaked a glance at him and sure enough, he had a forlorn look on his face. Finally, she decided to take pity on him. "Or if you think Scooby wouldn't miss you, I wouldn't mind some company for a while," she admitted as she opened the door.

She didn't know quite how he did it, but the man's attitude went from forlorn to fiesta in approximately 1.5 seconds, as soon as he heard her invitation. His face lit up; the grin almost split his face and his eyes started twinkling. She could almost feel the exhuberance emanting from his body. "I'll spring for pizza. Remember Nico?"

"Your friend who has the restaurant with the private room next to the back entrance? Really good lasagna?"

He nodded. "Best. Pizza. Ever. Garlic bread, too."

"Do they deliver?"

"They will for me," he said with the typical confidence he always showed with being able to get things done.

She rolled her eyes as she went to her closet to hang up her coat. But before she could take it off, she felt a broad pair of arms encircle her from behind in a hug. He leaned his face down by hers, nuzzling her neck with a little kiss before he said huskily, "Thank you for inviting me to stay."

She realized somewhere deep inside that she'd missed the feel of his arms around her, and now, she leaned back into him for just a moment. She turned her face to his and gave him a quick kiss before stepping forward so she could take off her coat. As she hung it up, she admitted, "You're welcome. But I really didn't have much of a choice now, did I? With you hinting around all day about how you didn't have anything to do tonight, how you would be sooooo bored, etcetera, etcetera. I had to take pity on you."

"Pity? That's all?" He sounded put out.

She turned back to him and put her hand on his cheek. "Well, maybe I'm getting a little used to having you around. And I kind of figured that you'd spring for dinner, so that's a plus."

He grinned at her automatically, but then furrowed his eyebrows at her in confusion as he thought about what she'd said. "So...last week, you got mad at me for taking you to lunch, and this week, you _want_ me to buy you dinner?"

She surprised him by stepping toward him and leaning her head forward so her forehead rested on his shoulder. His arm came around her automatically as he hugged her to him, lightly rubbing her back with his hand. "Don't remind me," she said, although it was muffled as she talked into his chest before she raised up and looked at him. "Castle, last week the objection had nothing to do with you taking me to lunch. I just got...oh, I don't know. I got annoyed, I guess, when you ordered for me. It was just one more thing, at the time, that it seemed like someone was saying I couldn't do for myself. I overreacted, okay? I'm not proud of it."

"I won't hold it against you. I know you were stressed. I just didn't realize how stressed."

She looked at him, seeing the inherent understanding that he had of her, for her. How could he be like that? How could he just roll with the punches so much when it came to her? "Castle...Rick, it wasn't your fault. You...you really didn't do anything wrong. Not worthy of my reaction, anyway. So, I'm sorry." She tilted her face up and kissed him, just letting her lips melt into his.

When he pulled back, he had one of the usual post-kiss smiles on his face...slightly cocky, slightly surprised, but still utterly content. "Feel free to say you're sorry anytime, just like that. In fact, what do you think about closing your closet door and going over to the couch, and then you can tell me just how sorry you really are? Because I think you're feeling very, very sorry, Detective." He had a comically suggestive grin on his face now, and with the waggle that his eyebrows did, it made her laugh as it broke the tension that she felt. She swatted him playfully on his chest.

"But thank you," she told him right afterwards, a new warmth in her eyes that had him taking a mental snapshot of how she looked right then. "And just so you know, I was always planning that you'd come over tonight," she admitted coyly.

"What?" his face showed the surprise he felt. "And you kept me hanging until we got here? Making me think that all I could look forward to tonight was Scooby Doo, alone?"

"Hey, Scooby's cool. Ryan and Espo even said so. Besides, it was kind of fun to try to see how many ways you could hint around without really coming out and saying, "Hey, Beckett, can I come over tonight? You certainly exceeded my expectations. You are nothing if not tenacious, Mr. Castle."

He stared at her. She'd played him? She'd played him _all day_? Why, that little... "So," he said as he began to follow her over to the couch, "you were having fun at the expense of my deep-seated desire to simply spend time with you? Beckett, how could you?"

She sat down on the couch and patted the cushion next to her. With a sly look on her face, she said, "Poor Rick. I'm _sorry._" Then she licked her lips before replying, "I'm _very, very_ sorry. See? You were right."

And once he sat down on the couch next to her, thoughts of ordering pizza from Nico's place were forgotten until it was way too late, and they had to settle for ordering from a pizza chain around the corner. But given the reason for their forgetfulness, neither one of them really cared.

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><p><em><strong>I hope everyone has a wonderful start to the upcoming week.<strong>_


	12. Chapter 12

_**Thanks to lilacwinteraire, Amybf19, itsourinsidejoke, gmay, Mark C, I'm Widget, Ariel119, Imhereforthestory, castlebeckettsiempre, Tazman10, and demuredemeanor for their reviews and encouragement after the last chapter. **_

_**I like this one better than the last few chapters of this story, so I hope my readers do too.**_

_**Spoilers for/references to one of the early chapters of Blizzard in this one. You're forewarned.**_

_**Disclaimer: the usual.**_

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><p>The elevator in her building was finally fixed, and she almost felt like laughing in pure joy when she saw that the yellow tape had been removed from the front of the doors, and saw the lights lit up when she pressed the button. Once again, she found herself glad for Castle's 'suggestion' to stay at his loft for a few more days after she got her boot, because she had to admit that even with the boot, those three flights were not fun to climb. Luckily, she only had to negotiate them a few times on her own before the elevator was fixed.<p>

Rick had been a frequent visitor to her apartment, and it surprised her that she wasn't feeling more anxious about it. That first night, after he'd hinted shamelessly to spend the evening with her, had been...fun. She thought about it later that night after he'd gone home, while she was laying in her bed. It was somehow lighter, different. She supposed that it had to do with her being in her own home, rather than someone else's. No matter how comfortable, how welcoming people were-and the Castle/Rodgers clan was certainly welcoming-it was just different when it wasn't your own home with your own things. And in that time that they spent at her apartment, she found herself smiling more and laughing more. Rick was slowly getting to know the place and feel comfortable too, and she was getting the feeling of what he must have felt like when she was staying with him. It wasn't a big deal to her if he kicked his shoes off or plopped down on the couch, but he didn't do any of those things at first, like he was scared he would do something that would offend her, or would be too forward. Oh, he had no problem suggesting a make-out session on the couch, but she figured that doing _that_, he'd be in his element just about anywhere. But it was the simple things where she found him to be almost endearingly uncomfortable.

That first night, when the pizza was delivered, he paid for it and then stood in the doorway, as if unsure what to do. She started to walk toward the kitchen, but then she stopped and looked back at him with a question in her eyes. He finally followed her, but he just looked...uncomfortable. Which, considering what they'd just been doing on her couch, was silly. She didn't say anything then, but when he still acted uncomfortable the next night, she finally asked him about it.

"Castle," she said, turning to him as he sat down on the couch, setting his glass of water on the table.

He looked at her with worried eyes, cautioned by the tone in her voice that she wanted to 'talk' about something. He was wary of that tone.

"Yes?" he answered politely.

"What is up with you all of a sudden?" At his blank look, she spurred on. "Castle, you just _asked_ me if it was okay if you got a glass of water. Like it was some big favor or something. It's _water_, Rick. If you're thirsty and you want a glass of water, then go get one." She waved her had dismissively toward the kitchen.

"I didn't want to impose. Or do something wrong."

She raised an eyebrow and gave him a little glare. "Really? God, Rick, it's water. The only thing you could do wrong is pour it somewhere that it shouldn't go."

"Like an elevator shaft?" he quipped right away, bringing up the reason for her elevator being out of commission.

She rolled her eyes and made a face, thinking of Noah, the juvenile delinquent with inattentive parents who had inconvenienced so many people with his little stunt of throwing snow down the elevator shaft after the blizzard, thus damaging the electrical components. "Exactly."

But when she returned mentally from thinking about Noah, she focused on Castle again. "But anyway, Rick, what's the problem with getting water?"

"Well, you might...not want me to be in your kitchen. Or to use a certain glass or something."

"A certain glass? No, I don't think so. I don't have time to worry about the glass that you use to drink from. And besides, that's just ridiculous."

He shook his head vehemently. "No, it's not! And don't scoff at me! I have personally experienced the wrath that can be invoked on an innocent man for using the wrong glass!"

"Oh, reallllly..." It was obvious that she didn't believe his claims of the perils of wrong-glass-using.

"Yes! One time when Meredith was pregnant with Alexis, she got these glasses, and they were for some certain drink or a specific time of day, or something. I forget. Or maybe I didn't forget, actually...maybe it was just a self-preservation tactic so my mind didn't continue to relive the horror of the occasion." He raised his eyes and looked at the ceiling in thoughtfulness.

"Anyway..." Kate said, prompting him to continue by making a 'get on with it' gesture with her hand.

"So I used the wrong glass, and Meredith went crazy. Said that I couldn't use the glass for water...it was totally wrong, they were a certain kind of glass, and I just ruined everything. And then she took them all and threw them against the brick wall in a fit of hormonal rage."

Kate didn't know what to say...his ex-wife had really done that? He'd always said she was crazy... And the man had had to live with her? "A whole set of glasses? Castle, I..."

"Well," he continued before she could get any other words out, "the woman always did go a little overboard in her dramatics, especially when there was a new part on the horizon."

Now she was wondering exactly which one of them was crazy, because she didn't follow that last comment at all. And she suddenly felt sorry for Alexis. "What _are_ you talking about?"

His gaze flipped back to her, and he came back to the present. "Oh, she was up for a role in a play where she would have played a Jewish bride...you know, where they break a glass at the end of the ceremony?"

"I thought only the groom broke the glass."

"Details, details. And I guess in some more liberal weddings, both the bride and groom do it."

"So...what? You're Jewish? I don't see the correlation."

He gave her a look. "No...I'm not Jewish. Meredith was up for that role, but then she found out that she was pregnant so she had to drop out. She went on a shopping spree and one of the things she got were the stupid glasses. _Then_ she found out that her sworn enemy got the role. And it was right after that that I decided to get a glass of water, using one of the new glasses. It was just there...I grabbed it. You know? Bad timing. Baaaaaad move on my part. She went ballistic and yelled at me that the glass was NOT to be used for water, and _certainly_ not in the middle of the day! Grabbed it right out of my hand and threw it at the brick wall, where it shattered quite nicely. Then she looked at it, laughed this truly evil little laugh, and grabbed another one. She started slamming them all against the wall, all the while alternately yelling at me and reciting lines from that play that she couldn't do."

"I thought the groom _stepped_ on the glass, not hurled it at a brick wall."

"Those finer points of tradition didn't seem to matter to her right then," he said dryly.

"I suppose not. Don't tell me she cut herself on the broken glass?"

He looked at her and shook his head blandly. "No. When there were no more glasses, she dusted her hands off, smiled at me and said something about that being cathartic, and then went to take a nap."

Kate didn't really know what to say. So she said that. "I don't...really...know quite what to say, Castle. You're sure you're not embellishing any of that?"

"I wish I was. She 'played her parts' pretty frequently. Unfortunately, I wasn't always sure when I might be pulled into one of her impromptu productions. Life with Meredith was definitely never boring."

"She's really a lunatic, huh?"

He nodded. "Is it any wonder that I wanted you? You're about as level-headed as they come."

"You aren't calling me boring, are you?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, her question a definite challenge.

"Never. You, my dear detective, are a beautiful mystery." He leaned in to kiss her lips before pulling back just slightly. "One that I may never solve, but I'll certainly have fun trying."

"Can I have fun too?" she asked coyly.

His eyes widened in suprise at her question, and at all that it conjured up in his mind. He took a deep breath before saying, "Kate, Kate."

And she just laughed at his reaction, wondering if he had any idea of the visions that were swirling in her own mind.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Later that week, they went straight to the Castle loft after they finished with another of Kate's physical therapy appointments. Colin was pleased with her progress, and as Castle mixed up something for dinner, Kate told Alexis about her appointment. Alexis was happy to see Kate after the last few days of her no longer being at the loft, and greeted Kate with another quick hug. She was interested in the anatomy of what Kate was going through, and the recovery process, and had even gone so far as to do some internet research on ankle injuries. So she was also quite interested in what the therapist-the very hot and well regarded therapist-had been doing to rehab Kate's ankle.

"Now, what is that exercise supposed to do?" Alexis asked, and Kate relayed the details that the therapist gave her. After that, she began to describe how her range of motion was improving. Castle lost track of the conversation until he realized that Alexis was looking at Kate with an eager look on her face, and he tuned back in just in time to hear Kate mention that Colin "had a short sleeve shirt on today, and let me tell you, the muscles in his forearms, not to mention his biceps...whoa. I mean, after looking at some of the guys at the station all day, it's really nice to be able to leave and look at..._that_." Kate smiled and Alexis giggled, and Rick felt that irrational part of him bubble up again. Without really thinking, he unbuttoned his cuffs and began to roll his shirt sleeves up. He thought his own forearms were pretty good in the musculature department. Kate noticed his abrupt movements but kept talking to Alexis, extolling the virtues of Colin's muscular build. She nudged Alexis, and they kept an eye on Rick out of the corners of their eyes as he not only rolled up his sleeves, but then grabbed the bowl with the eggs for their quiche and started frantically whipping them in the bowl.

His vehement movements alerted the ladies to his presence, and Alexis looked at him and said "God, Dad! What are you trying to do to those eggs? And why don't you just use the mixer if you need them mixed _that_ much?"

"I am _beating_ them, daughter, and I don't need the mixer. What...you don't think your poor old dad can handle beating eggs? I'll have you know that these arms are perfectly capable of beating these eggs sufficiently without the need for electrical intervention, thank you very much!"

Alexis threw up her hands in surrender. Then she looked over at Kate, who shrugged, then subtley gestured toward the living room with her eyes. Alexis was astute enough to pick up on the request for her to leave them alone for a few minutes, and quietly made a lame excuse to go somewhere else. Although she did like to rile Rick up a little bit by talking about the physical 'assets' of her hunky therapist, especially since his first reaction to him was so over the top, Kate had really only been having a good time, engaging in some 'girl talk' with Alexis. But she could see now that Rick was obviously not in a good mental place in their budding relationship with hearing that type of thing. Who would have thought he, of all people, would be insecure? As she got up and walked over to Rick, she made it a mental note to tone it down around him in the future. Obviously, he wasn't really good with realizing that the talk was just that...only talk.

When she reached him, without saying a word, she gently took the bowl with the eggs out of his hands and put it on the island to the side of them. In his whipping frenzy, he hadn't even noticed her get up, but when she took the bowl, he looked at her questioningly. After the bowl was secure, she very pointedly took his wrists in her hands and studied them, , and then ran her hands up his forearms and back down again in a very distinct caress, a silent comparison to the words she'd just uttered to Alexis about her hunky therapist, before stepping very close to him and placing his arms around her back. When they felt secure around her (and they felt _good_ there, she had to admit), she raised her own hands up to bracket his face. He was still looking at her like he didn't know what she was doing, but at least most of the frustration was gone from his face. She very slowly kissed one corner of his mouth, and then pulled back and gave him a pointed look before kissing the other corner of his mouth. She pulled back a second time to look at him, and, noticing that his eyes now held none of the frustration of before. His eyes bored into hers so much that she had the fleeting thought that if she mentioned Colin right now, he probably wouldn't even know who she was talking about. She held his eyes as they were fixed on hers, and she began to see the raw, naked desire in them; desire for her.

Had he always looked at her that way? If he did, how did she stay away from him for as long as she did? How could _any_ woman stay away from a man who looked at you like that?

Well, she couldn't. Her eyes flitted down to his mouth, and then back to those blue eyes of his. She tilted her face up as the hands that were still holding his face brought is head down the remaining distance until their lips met.

It was the gentlest of kisses, actually several of them, but they were still powerful in their gentleness. He responded in kind, and seemed to instinctively know the intent so he didn't try to take anything deeper. She finished the kiss and took her hands away from his head to wrap them tightly around his shoulders and head and she buried her face in his neck briefly as she felt his arms tighten even more around her back as he hugged her. She took a moment to just inhale the scent that was inherently him. Pressing a kiss to his neck, she pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes again.

Then she said very softly to him, "No comparison. Okay?"

He didn't say a word, but she knew when she saw that slight crooked smile with a new little twinkle in his eyes, he'd gotten her point.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The next morning, they'd arranged for Ryan to pick Kate up from her apartment because Castle had to take Alexis to school to sign some permission forms and talk to a teacher before class about a study trip that she was going on. It wasn't supposed to take long, but she didn't want to wait the extra time, so from his previous offer, she called Ryan for a ride.

Rick got the idea the night before, after he'd taken Kate home, to surprise her at the station the next day. The dinner the night before had given him the seed of the idea, and it grew from there. He still felt silly for his macho display of egg-whipping before dinner. He wasn't one who was normally prone to jealous outbursts, but somehow, he just seemed to fall into the trap when it came to Kate. He just...he was so glad that she had agreed to try this relationship with him that he sometimes still couldn't believe it. Kate could probably have any guy she wanted, and she'd kept him at bay for so long that he knew-and was very annoyed by the fact-that he was just a little bit insecure, like when she started extolling the muscled virtues of the hunky physical therapist. And the therapist was a normal guy, not a guy with an almost-grown daughter, two somewhat crazy ex-wives, and a certain notoriety from being famous that resulted in a high potential for a lack of privacy. Combine that with her skittishness over the relationship in the first place, especially when he'd put his foot in his mouth now a few times, and the insecurity just kind of increased. He knew he wanted to make this work-a lot-and he wondered if maybe that's where all of this new insecurity came from.

He got everything ready before he took Alexis to school, so all he had to do when he got home was put the finishing touches on it. And then he was out the door. He took his own vehicle to the station even though he didn't have to pick Kate up; it was easier than trying to get a cab with what he was carrying.

He texted Ryan, Esposito and Kate when he was in the lobby, telling them to meet him in the break room in five minutes, and that they'd regret it if they didn't.

When he got there, the guys were waiting but there was no Beckett. "She said she had to make a quick trip to the file room, but she'd be back in a few," Esposito told him when he asked.

Ryan nodded at the carrier that he was holding. "Whatcha got there, Castle?"

He set it down on the table. "Feast your eyes, gentlemen. And your tastebuds. Prepare to be tantalized," he told them, setting the scene as he unwrapped the carrier, revealing the pan.

Both of the detectives leaned over and looked at what Castle had just unrapped. "You made us breakfast, Castle? Is that what that is?" Esposito asked, then sniffed the aroma of the dish. He shrugged. "Smells good. What is it?"

"It's a breakfast casserole! All kinds of breakfast goodness for hungry detectives," he told them proudly. "Beckett said it was so good that I could make money selling this stuff if my writing career ever went belly-up. How big of a piece do you want?"

"Beckett's had this before?" Ryan asked. But before he could get an answer, there was another voice in the room.

"Okay, Castle, what's the grand theatrical suprise?" Beckett asked, interrupting them as she came into the break room, her hand holding a couple of files. Castle was grinning, but when she looked at Ryan and Esposito, they looked at each other with wide eyes before they turned to her with the same surprised-but oddly delighted-looks on their faces.

"Just in time, Detective! And...voila!" he said with a flourish as he stepped aside. "The breakfast casserole! I made it again!"

He was so proud to be presenting it to her that he didn't even register the expressions on the faces of the two male detectives. But he registered the look of shock on Beckett's face. "What? You liked it before..." he asked her, confused. "I used the same stuff."

She had to recover; she couldn't stand here gaping at him like she was doing. Because immediately upon seeing it, her mind had gone back, and though it was really good then, great even, there was no way it should be here now, not in the break room, not around Ryan and Esposito, and especially not with Castle telling them she'd had it before. For _breakfast_. Didn't Rick realize what he'd done, what the implications were? With any luck, maybe the other two wouldn't notice anything. But then she sneaked a look at them, and realized it was a lost cause and all she could do was watch as the guys got smug looks on their faces, ignored her and went in for the kill with the unsuspecting Castle.

"Hey, Castle?" Esposito asked.

"Yeah?"

"Ah, you said this is a _breakfast _casserole, and you made this before. And Beckett tried it and liked it. For _breakfast_."

Ryan picked up where Esposito had left off. "So, uh, you wanna tell us how you came to be cooking _breakfast_ for Beckett?"

And the volley for the win went back to Esposito. "Generally, man, if you cook _breakfast_ for someone, 'specially something like this, it means you were together the night before. And that it was no _ordinary_ night. And Castle, dude, we know what _that_ means. So tell us, Castle...when exactly was this extraordinary night that prompted you to cook Beckett a very nice, ahem, _hot_ breakfast the next morning?"

The smile dropped off Castle's face as he heard the words of the two detectives, saw their extremely smug smiles, and saw his secret girlfriend's face blanch as she realized what they'd said...what they were very strongly implying.

Now, only now did he see his mistake.

Breakfast. 'She liked it before.'

Oh, damn.

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><p><em><strong>Sorry to end the chapter on kind of an off-color word, but I just thought it fit. Hope you can forgive me. <strong>_

_**Notes about the show last night: my personal opinion was that I liked it, just b/c it was a new show after a semi-long hiatus, but I thought they should have shown something else about the wedding or reception. Also, I'm kind of bothered by the Caskett relationship as it's been portrayed lately...it's definitely down on the UST and the loaded looks (with the exception of Cops and Robbers). Yes, she seems to like him so much more now, but it's almost a friendly kind of like, rather than a 'I want to jump your bones but I'm trying to restrain myself' type of like. I'm sure we'll get there, but hey, you see 'wedding' and you just get the idea that there's going to be more of...something romantic, even if it's just the comedy of them trying to stifle their feelings. But until we do get there, at least we have fanfiction, right? ;)**_

_**Now, about the chapter...thoughts? I'd love to hear what you thought about the chapter, and what you feel could be improved for the future.**_


	13. Chapter 13

_**Thanks for the great feedback for the last chapter! During the times when I've been wondering if I should continue, it really picks me up and makes me want to write more. And welcome to JROb41319, who has just caught up with not only this story, but Blizzard too. **_

_**I'm sorry for the break since the last chapter; I published another short two-shot, "Whatever the Cost" dealing with the last episode (Dial M for Mayor). But that's done now, and here's your next chapter of 'Melting Slowly'.**_

_**Disclaimer: Do not own the characters or anything about the show.**_

_Previously: Castle started to go over to Beckett's place to spend time with her, but he wasn't altogether comfortable at first. Toward the end of the week, they had dinner with Alexis at the loft, and Beckett and Alexis were engaging in some girl talk about Beckett's hot physical therapist when Castle got jealous again. Beckett noticed and used some female persuasion to convince him that she was interested in him, and him only, and appreciating the hot physical therapist was just harmless, fun, girl talk. The next morning, Ryan picked Beckett up to tak her to the precinct; Castle came later. He decided to surprise her with the breakfast casserole that he'd made that first morning in the Hamptons, before most of the blizzard had hit. But he didn't make the connection soon enough, and when he explained to Ryan and Esposito about the casserole, he mentioned that Beckett had had it before. The guys jumped on the fact that it was a breakfast item, and that would have meant Beckett was there for some breakfast with Castle, presumably after a night. Innuendo is running high._

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><p>"What, Castle, aren't you going to say anything? We'd really...<em>love<em> to hear how Beckett came to be eating _breakfast_ with you." Esposito told him with a smirk.

"Well, uh...yeah. I mean, no." He was stuttering, and if Kate wasn't mistaken, she was thinking that he almost looked a little sick. "I mean, yes, I'm going to say something, but I'm not going-"

"God, you guys! Why don't you grow up?" Beckett told them, interrupting Castle's stammering and shaking her head as she finished stalking into the room. Well, she stalked as much as she was able to stalk with her boot. As far as intimidation tactics went, it was definitely not a shining moment for her with her cumbersome leg. But since Castle had obviously figured out his gaffe and was now sitting there slack-jawed, it was the best semi-diversionary tactic she could muster up quickly. And she was fast and furiously thinking of what she could say next, and how they could play this off, and if she could still salvage this. Her mind was whirring, and Castle's words from their first day back rang through her head, where he'd pointed out that he really didn't lie about anything when Ryan was ribbing him about being cuddled up with a woman during the blizzard. He'd just been vague and had left her name out of it. So in the several seconds it took her to walk around the table and put the files down, her mind caught up to the situation and she was beginning to calm herself, to formulate an idea of how to handle it.

"What's wrong, Beckett? Don't like Castle's _breakfast_ this time?" Ryan asked her. Even though it was becoming annoying, she had to hand it to the guys...they were somehow really good at making the word 'breakfast' sound like a euphemism for something off-color and kinky.

She leaned over on the table, close to Ryan's face, and said lowly, "Oh, I don't know, Ryan. Maybe I just like to partake of Castle's _breakfasts_ behind closed doors." She watched as his eyes marked his surprise that she evoked with her equally kinky implications. Then she went in for the kill, in a breathy little voice, when she added, "In, you know, _private_."

She was vaguely aware of Castle watching her, and she made it a point to remain utterly calm as she looked back at Esposito, and then back at Ryan, who now weren't smirking so much as they were somewhat shocked at her tone and what she had said. Once she looked at their faces for several loaded, silent seconds, she laughed and rolled her eyes. "God, you guys are _soooo_ easy! And you can close your mouths right now, because, no, Castle and I have _not_ done the horizontal mambo." Now that she'd been forced to play her own version of the subterfuge game, she was able to appreciate Castle's quick thinking the week before; what she'd said just now was totally the truth. Well, they'd done some horizontal dance steps, but with her 'rules', they never actually got to the full mambo.

"Well, then..." Esposito prompted.

"Well, then _maybe_ since Castle has been giving me rides to the station for the better part of two weeks, do you think he just _might_ have brought me a piece of his breakfast casserole during one of those trips? I have heard that he cooks breakfast for his _daughter_, you know; maybe he just had some left over. Or maybe I even ate it when I stayed with him and _his family _for a few days after my apartment _blew up_?" She emphasized some of her words, which gave the distinct impression that they were being ridiculous and were barking up the wrong tree. When the guys looked at each other after her proclamation, she sneaked a look at Castle, and even in that quick glance, she could see that he was digesting her words and was also looking a few shades less ill. After she glared at Esposito for three very loaded seconds, she shot a quick glare at Ryan before she rolled her eyes and opened the folder that she was holding when she walked into the room.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Ryan and Esposito look at each other and shrug, as if to say silently that they supposed it was a plausible reason. Then she heard Esposito laugh. "Well, you know, just sayin', Beckett. Gotta go with the _evidence_," he told her, bobbing his head toward the casserole.

She nodded. "Sure, Espo. You just go with your so-called evidence, and Castle and I will just enjoy this wonderful concoction of his. It really is good. The eggs are so fluffy, and the cheese has a really nice flavor," she said as she grabbed a knife and started cutting herself a generous slice. "Hey, Castle, did you bring plates?" He looked momentarily stunned to actually be talked _to_ once again, rather than being talked _about._ Without a word, he produced the paper plates from a bag. "Thanks." After putting her slice on her plate, she made a show of tasting it and let out an appreciative, "Mmmmm..."

Ryan was looking between her and the casserole, and the wonderful aromas caused his stomach to growl. "Fine. Hand over the knife, Beckett. I need to cut myself a piece. If it tastes as good as it smells..."

But Beckett pulled the knife and even the pan of food away from the other detective. "Uh, uh, uh, Ryan," she told him, shaking her head. "This is _evidence_. And you know, if eating this so-called evidence somehow implicates me in engaging in a torrid affair with the chef, then what does that say about you two if you eat it? Huh? It is, after all, a _breakfast_ dish, and you know what they say about _breakfast_ dishes." And she punctuated her statement by raising an eyebrow at him in challenge, throwing the guys' own words back at them, right before she popped another bite in her mouth.

She watched the eyes of both detectives grow larger before Esposito said, "No way. That's just sick, Beckett."

"Hey, you guys said it, not me. Sorry," she finished very unapologetically. She popped another bite in her mouth and turned to her partner. "Casso, this ish weally good!" she told him, keeping her hand over her mouth as she spoke but not really wanting to wait until she'd finished the food. And she wanted to torment the guys a little more too.

"Thank you," replied the author, finally piping up after being silent for so long. He walked over to the dish and cut himself a piece, and then shoved the dish closer to Beckett. "Keep that close to you," he told her her in mock seriousness. "Try to do something nice for people here, and then they start assigning covert, hidden meanings to everything." Obviously he was now back to his quick-witted self, having recovered from his blunder after watching Kate's improvisations.

"I _know_! But oh, well. More for us." She shrugged at him and took another bite.

Ryan was still eyeing the dish, as was Esposito. "Funny, you guys. Now hand over the egg stuff." Ryan statement ended with another distinct growl from his stomach.

"Nope," Beckett said again. "We're just trying to save your reputation, you know. Don't want people to get the wrong idea about you guys and Castle. You know how rumors spread."

"Such a shame, really, seeing as how there's all of this extra eggy, cheesy goodness," Castle observed, eyeing the leftovers of the breakfast casserole. "But we wouldn't want to besmirch your reputations." Kate nodded at his comment as she took another bite.

Esposito and Ryan looked at each other, and then at the food. "Fine. You win. There's nothing going on between you guys. Now give us the damn eggs," Esposito said in a steely voice.

Without even a smile, Castle reached over and slid the dish closer to where the guys were sitting. But when Kate looked at him more closely, she could see the smirk in his eyes, and she noticed a twitch in his jaw muscle as if he was giving a herculean effort to not smile.

The two other detectives wasted no time in digging into the 'eggy, cheesy goodness', as Castle had called it. When he got the first taste, Ryan's eyes got big. He quickly spooned another bite into his mouth and some gooey cheese dripped onto his chin. Castle surreptitiously pointed to his chin and stage-whispered to him, "I'm kind of happy we're not having a torrid affair because I have to say, Ryan, you're a really messy eater."

Kate just rolled her eyes, but inside she was relieved that they'd managed to dodge the instincts of her two matchmaking coworkers. For now.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"It was a nice gesture, the breakfast, but did you just forget to think things through, or _what_? I mean, the way Ryan and Esposito picked up on the breakfast part of it so quickly..." Kate brought it up as soon as she crawled into Castle's SUV that night, preparing to go home. She hadn't really had a chance to talk to him about their near miss, but she could see from his eyes and his mannerisms that he was wondering all day if she was still mad, or was going to blow a gasket at any moment. He just wasn't himself. He tried to joke, but somehow it fell flat. They'd had their share of verbal gaffes since they'd agreed to start dating, both of them, and they were still treading lightly around each other in some respects. Their familiarity with each other and comfort with their new relationship was increasing, but there were still some times when she knew that he was still concerned about things, worried and wary about making the wrong move.

He started up the vehicle and told her in a bland, but apologetic voice, "It seemed like a good idea at the time, and I just...I know how you raved about it when we were in the Hamptons, so I..."

"What?"

He shrugged. "I wanted to surprise you." He said it so sweetly, like a tough little boy who out of the blue says something endearingly touching to his mother, and Kate couldn't help but feel...what was it? How did she give a name to the term? Content, she supposed. And just a little tingly inside. Because this was Richard Castle, famous author. Handsome millionaire. He could probably have any woman he wanted, and of course that thought still evoked some jealous flashes in her. But he wanted _her_ and he'd wanted to surprise _her_ at work by making her breakfast. Not ordering in a grand spread from a five-star restaurant, but making it. Himself. And it was only breakfast. And in a weird way, that made it even more special; it wasn't like it was diamonds or furs or something expensive. It was just eggs. Somehow, just that simplicity was what struck her most, together with his words about wanting to surprise her. Surprise her, with something that he knew she already liked, rather than impress her.

And despite how close they came to being found out, when she heard the tone of his simple admission, she just couldn't be mad at him. Not that she really was anymore, but even her annoyance was gone. And even though his words evoked that little tingly sweet feeling inside, she couldn't help but think that this had affected him more than she thought it had. He wasn't doing the playful pout like he normally did; he was really acting a little bit forlorn, almost like he was depressed about something. She couldn't put her finger on it, but it just wasn't...Castle.

Before she buckled her seatbelt, she scooted a few inches closer to him and reached over to his face, turning it toward her. "Hey," she said, furrowing her eyebrows. "It's okay. I'm not mad. I was a little...shocked, I guess, once I realized it was the same dish that we'd had in the Hamptons, and I just _knew_ the boys would latch onto it like a dog with a meaty bone. And they did. But we talked our way out of it-"

"_You_ talked your way out of it," he complimented her. "Quite well, I might add. I'm usually sharper than that but..."

"You saying you're slipping in your old age, Castle?"

She intended it as a joke, but he just pursed his lips together and gave a one-shoulder shrug. "Hey, I was kidding," she told him. "No harm done, okay?"

"Sure." And he gave her a smile before quipping, "No ham done to anything except for the breakfast casserole. Did you see how those guys ate every last crumb?"

He made a joke, so that was good, but he still seemed a little...off. He just wasn't himself. "Rick, is something wrong? Is it about the breakfa-"

"No," he said a little too quickly. "Just fine."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "No...something's up."

He shook his head with a slight smile. "Sorry. Just a lot on my mind, I guess. So do you want to order in tonight, or should I try my hand at cooking another meal for you?"

His attempt to suddenly change the subject was almost laughable. "You're feeding me pretty well today, so you choose." Of course, they both just assumed that they would spend the evening together, even though neither one of them realized it just then. "But what's on your mind that has you so...somber? Anything I can help with?" She laid her hand on his arm and gave it a squeeze, trying to convey some support for him if he needed it. The exhuberance of Richard Castle definitely took some getting used to, but once you did, she realized that a person could really miss it when it was gone. And strangely enough, she wanted to do what she could to get it back.

"No, but thanks. Just some things I need to work out."

He turned away from her and started the SUV, and it make her realize that they'd been sitting there talking the whole time without making any progress toward actually getting home. But she had a thought, and it replaced the tingly feeling that she had earlier with one of apprehension and doubt. "Rick," she asked, placing her hand on his before he could shift the vehicle into Drive, "Is it something with me, or...us?"

He must have seen the sudden trepidation her eyes, because he turned his hand over to grasp hers. "No! No, Kate. We're fine. I mean, at least as far as I'm concerned."

"Are you sure?" Because if it wasn't her, and their new relationship, then what could it be? He just wasn't...normal. Normal for him, anyway.

"Positive."

Then she took her hand out of his and brought it to the back of his neck, using it to pull his face toward hers. Their lips met in a soft, sweet kiss. When she pulled back, she still had her hand around his neck and she leaned her forehead against his. "Rick, promise me that if there's something on your mind, and I can help you with it, you'll let me know? Because I want to help if I can. And you're just a roll-with-the-punches kind of guy, so seeing you like this kind of worries me."

He leaned his lips forward and kissed her again. "It's not you, not at all. And you _are_ helping just by being here with me and by spending time with me. I'll snap out of it; I always do. But I promise, I'll let you know if there's any more that you can do." He smiled at her again. "So, help me right now by telling me what you're in the mood for for dinner. I was thinking of a good, gooey pizza. How does that sound?"

She thought about it a moment, instantly deciding not to press the issue with him any more right now. She'd see how quickly he did snap out of it, and if he didn't, she'd just have to lock him in a closet or something until he talked to her. But now, she thought about his dinner proposition and realized it sounded good. "Your friend Nico's place? We never did get to get our pizza there that other night. And then you can stop by and pick it up and you don't have to call in any of your delivery favors."

"Good thinking!" he told her, and reached for his phone to place the order before he started driving.

On the way to pick up the pizzas, their conversation kept running around in his head. He'd tried to act normal since he'd gotten the news today, but obviously he hadn't been successful if she'd picked up on it. He knew he had to tell her sometime. But he was dreading the time when he'd be forced to admit what was going on, and what it could mean for their relationship. He just hoped it didn't prove to be more than she could take.

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><p><em><strong>Ominous? Maybe. You should find out within the next few chapters. And I hope you didn't find Beckett too soft during the car chat part of the chapter. I was wondering about that, but I decided to leave it.<strong>_

_**Now, all of you who are subcribed to this story, it's review time...please click that little button and let me know what you think. I do appreciate it!**_


	14. Chapter 14

_**Wow...such great response to the last chapter! Thanks so much...you all really made my day! AND you made me want to turn right around and write this chapter even faster...great motivation! Chelle82, you almost made me blush, and I did definitely grin when I read your nice comment. And MeganReneeSweetart...lusting...interesting choice of words. We'll get to that in the story. Promise. ;-)**_

_**And I just have to say that I'm so relieved that everyone seemed to like the car chat and the 'softer' Beckett. Once again, I was kind of worried/wondering about that, but your comments made me feel better, knowing I was on the right track. You do make a difference!**_

_**And NCIS She-Demon posed a question: what about Montgomery, since he's still alive in my AU? Yes, I know he is, and I'll have him pop up when I can, like just a bit in this chapter. It's weird, though...I never expected it, but I find that it's almost a little harder to write him being alive now that I know he's not alive anymore in the real show. Is that goofy? I don't know. But yes, I'll try to put him in the story at least a little bit. And he will come into play in some later chapters, in a very Captain-like way, so never fear, he'll be there.**_

_**Disclaimer: the usual.**_

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><p><em>Previously: Beckett talked herself out of the breakfast debacle. After that, though, she noticed that Castle seemed...off, that is, not as enthusiastic or energetic as he normally was. She thought maybe he was having second thoughts about their relationship, which he said he wasn't, but she couldn't get him to tell her exactly what was bothering him. He said he would work it out, and she vowed to herself that if he didn't get back to his normal self, she'd lock him in a closet or something until he told her what was going on with him.<em>

The next couple of weeks passed pretty quickly for the couple. Castle kept up with his chauffeuring duties for Beckett because she still couldn't drive, although her ankle was healing quite nicely. She still got twinges and it was still stiff and tended to get sore if she used it too much, but Paul, the doctor Castle had taken her to, assured her that was all normal. She was eventually given the go-ahead to wear normal shoes for part of each day, and after wearing the clunky boot for so long, it felt heavenly to wear shoes, even though she wasn't allowed to wear her normal heels. After several weeks without her heels now, she was getting used to her decreased stature relative to everyone else, and while she really wanted to go back to her heels, she found that she didn't mind it as much as she thought she would.

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One time when he picked her up, she was immediately assaulted with a delicious aroma when she opened the vehicle's door, which turned out to be coming from large covered pan in the back seat. "Oh, my gosh, Castle...what is that smell? It's...really good!" she asked before leaning over for what had become their ritual of a good morning kiss.

"Nothing special. Just cinnamon french toast and sausage links." His voice was nonchalant, but the smile he gave her after the kiss belied the pleasure that her words had invoked in him. "For you and the Captain and the guys, and for Karpowski's team, on the off chance that the guys actually leave any for them."

"You made french toast and sausage?" she asked. He nodded with a proud smile on his face. "Not that I'm complaining, but...why?"

He pulled out into traffic after she finished buckling herself in. "Simple, really. Somehow, the guys still don't know about us, although I frankly don't know how."

"Yeah, it's a good thing they didn't see it when you grabbed my butt the other day. That, and the fact that you're still living, with no broken bones, would have been a sure giveaway for them that something was up."

"I told you before...I was reaching for something and you got in the way," he defended.

"Riiiight. That explains how you took a nice grab and happened to hang on for several seconds. You know, your excuses need some work, because you can't convince me that my butt looks like a file folder, and I'm sure it doesn't feel like one. Especially when your hand was hanging on for as long as it was."

"No, it doesn't," he told her matter-of-factly. "It feels _much_ better than a file folder." The smile that he shot her after that comment was nothing short of bad-boy roguish.

She rolled her eyes and then tried to get back on topic. "Butt-grabbing aside, you were saying?"

He thought for a moment, trying to remember what the previous topic was. "Oh yeah. The guys don't know yet, and I was thinking about the breakfast casserole incident from...what? A week and a half ago?"

"Where you almost blew it by mentioning that I'd had the thing before?"

"Where you came to my rescue with your quick mind and your impressively original wit and sharp use of innuendo?"

"Are you king of the adjectives this morning?" she asked rhetorically. "But yes."

"So...last night, during those _long_, dark, dreary hours spent regretfully alone after I had to leave you," he paused slightly, shifting a quick look at her, "I started thinking about your deftly-fashioned supposition about how you could have first come to taste my amazing culinary delight."

"I guess you _are_ king of the adjectives this morning," she muttered under her breath. "Soooo...?" she prompted more loudly.

"You said that I cook breakfast for my daughter regularly, and _maybe_ I had some of the breakfast casserole-"

"Don't you mean 'amazing culinary delight'?" she interjected.

"That too. You said that maybe I brought you a piece because I had some left over. So I made Alexis cinnamon french toast and sausage this morning, and oops! I guess I cooked too much, so I decided to bring it in."

"To prove the plausibility of my impromptu theory?"

"Exactly." He nodded his head and smiled proudly, as if he'd plotted out the details of a new, intriguing murder for one of his books.

"You do realize the guys have probably forgotten all about that by now? Except for the fact that you fed them, of course. Right?"

"Well, if they have, then me bringing in a totally innocent and wonderfully generous breakfast-and one that's very aromatic, with the cinnamon-will remind them and it will further support your 'reasoning'."

"So if they ever think about it again, we'll have plausible deniability?"

"Exactly," Rick said again, also very proudly. "That's one thing I really-" He stopped suddenly, and the smile left his face. Kate was looking at him, and was surpised when his face lost all semblance of being proud and jovial. It was as if someone had flipped a switch.

He didn't say anything for several seconds, which made her really wonder what he was thinking, and what had made his face do what it did. All of a sudden, she was reminded of his odd mood during the later part of that day that he brought the breakfast casserole in. She knew there was something going on, but he wouldn't tell her. And even now, a week and a half later, she was still no closer to finding out what had been bothering him that day. His normal demeanor had returned, for the most part, although she still caught him staring at her from time to time with that somewhat forlorn look on his face. But he was better at picking up on her moods, so he seemed to be able to switch back to 'normal Castle' a lot faster if he sensed she was about to ask him about it, thus not giving her a chance to really question him about what those moments and looks were all about.

But while his abrupt cessation of dialog wasn't normal for him, nor was it exactly like that odd mood that she saw in him from time to time. And since he _was_ in the middle of saying something, she thought it was probably a good thing that he should finish his thought. "Castle? You were saying? One thing you really...what?" she prompted, her brows furrowed from his abrupt change.

He glanced over at her, and then, quick as she could blink, he smiled again. "Sorry. Just took a mental detour there for a minute. I was just going to say that it's one thing that...uh, is really nice about you-that you understand my thought processes so well. You can follow my thinking."

"Do you realize that that's a somewhat scary thing to say about me, especially when you might happen to be spouting CIA theories at any given moment?" She have him a teasing grin with a raised eyebrow, to let him know she was joking.

And then the full Castle grin was back as he didn't answer, but just reached over to squeeze her hand as he finished the rest of the drive to the precinct. So for the moment, she forced herself to forget his occasional odd moods and just enjoy the aroma of the richly-scented breakfast that was wafting toward her from the back seat.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The french toast and sausage was, as Castle predicted, a hit. And also as predicted, the guys and the Captain polished off the rest of the generous supply after Kate had taken what she wanted. The topic of the breakfast casserole did come up, and Beckett caught Castle's sly grin when the guys made note of the fact that 'Castle really _can_ cook!' Captain Montgomery hadn't been there that day, so they gave him the innuendo-free version of the situation. And when Castle, being the adjective king that he was that day, started describing the casserole, Montgomery gave Castle a narrow-eyed glare and told him that he'd better stop talking about it right then and there unless he wanted to go home and make a pan. Castle stopped talking.

In the afternoon, Beckett had a meeting with one of the Assistant DAs about a case that was coming to trial, and Castle elected to not go. He'd been to those types of meetings before and realized he could do without them; the fun stuff-the collection of evidence, the investigation and the arrest-had already been done for that one, before Beckett had hurt her ankle, in fact, and he'd been there for it. He didn't need to rehash it in a meeting.

And really, he needed the time to sort out some of his thoughts; thoughts that had been running rampant in his brain since the car ride that morning. He was fine during their discussion of the breakfast...well, during most of the discussion. But then he almost committed the numero uno, grande, capital sin, again, after the last few weeks of being 'good': he almost used the 'L' word, when he'd started to say, 'That's one thing I really love about you.' It was a casual use of that high-powered word, yes, but he said it casually once, when she'd pelted him with the plum when she was still staying at his loft, and she bolted then. The uncomfortable silence in the room at the time, and the way she'd made a hasty retreat despite him trying to shrug off the comment as casual, not to be taken literally...nothing worked. The word had caused her to mildly freak out. He was just glad that she was able to get back on an even keel later, and he'd been schooling himself from that point on to try to strike the word from his vocabulary when he was around her. And especially after the carriage ride when he'd made the 'old and gray' comment, he was so conscious of doing anything that might scare her again.

That was good in theory. And he'd trained himself to not use certain words around certain people before; namely, not using off-color words around Alexis when she was growing up. And he was surprisingly good at turning it off. And after that incident with the plum, he'd been pretty good. But earlier in the car, it had almost slipped out again.

But he knew that the problem for him wasn't only the word. It was the feeling behind the word. It was all of those types of feelings that were behind the word, whether he said the word aloud or not. And though he wasn't totally sure yet, in those past several weeks since the time they'd spent in the Hamptons, he felt like his feelings for the beautiful detective were moving closer to the land of that big, scary L-word.

And he knew he couldn't say anything to her; it would be the death of whatever fledgling relationship that they had. She wanted to move slowly. She'd told him that point blank, and she'd shown him that every time there was a mention of anything whatsoever that might deal with a more permanent or long-lasting relationship. Heck, even mentioning anything about the upcoming summer, only several months in advance, would make her eyes cloud over and had her changing the subject before too long.

Poor Alexis...she had no idea what she was getting into when she started making her version of summer plans at dinner two nights before. He'd brought Kate straight back to the loft, along with a half-dozen containers of Chinese food. Alexis was talking about summer as they ate, talking first about swimming suits (and not thongs, which she clarified again in reference to their group discussion and gang-up-on-Rick time in the Hamptons) and being able to show Kate what their beach was like. Perceptive as always, he noticed Kate getting quiet and joining less and less in Alexis' discussion. Then Alexis said she thought it would be fun to take a drive into the country to see one of the live plays that are put on in outdoor theaters. And then she joked that just she and Kate could go, and they could leave Rick at home to write. Rick didn't think much of the comment, and he tried to look affronted to bring some levity back to the situation for Kate's sake, but she just looked...odd. And when Alexis pressed her about what month she wanted to go, the detective deftly dodged the issue by saying that she didn't know what the summer would be like for work, so committing to anything was hard right now. And then she'd abruptly changed the subject by making some lame comment about the weather. Alexis didn't think too much about her answer or the subject change, but Rick saw the wariness in Kate's eyes, which had been there ever since the topic of summer plans had come up and it was obvious that Alexis was including her, and he recognized the subject change for what it was.

Fear. Fear of going too fast, and 'messing things up', as she'd put it.

He suspected that most people would say that he was overthinking his relationship with Kate, but he knew her; he'd studied her for years. He knew how she was about past relationships, and some of it even because she admitted it to him. So in order to keep the relationship, he knew had to keep things light; let her decide the speed of the relationship, even though it was becoming increasingly more difficult for him to do that. And a lot of that difficulty was because of the monkey wrench that he had to throw into things in one short week. He just wished there was something he could do, but he was backed into a corner. He'd finally told Alexis, and she was somewhat upset, naturally, but in the end she understood and they began to make plans. But he just didn't know what to do about Kate, or even how to bring it up, much less break it to her. He got knots in his stomach whenever he thought about it. He tried not to think about it, but it was still always there, when he looked at her, when he spent time with her. It made him want to spend every minute that he could with her now, while he still could.

But he had to tell her. He'd been sitting on the information for the last couple of weeks, and he knew he couldn't sit on it any longer. His quandary, though, was when to tell her. He didn't want to tell her too soon and have the cloud hanging over them, but he knew if he waited too long, it wouldn't bode well for him either. Eventually, he decided on the end of the week. She was already supposed to come over for dinner, so he would tell her then. And between now and then, he had to try to find the words to convince her to not give up on them.

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><p><em><strong>I hope you enjoyed the breakfast banter. It kind of...flowed, and I could 'see' her rolling her eyes and giving him a hard time during that scene. <strong>_

_**Now, is Castle being a little bit melodramatic? Yes, of course he is...he's Castle! And Kate does have the 'one foot out the door' mentality, and he knows that, so naturally he's a bit worried, especially when he recognizes that his feelings for her are deepening. And really...the big secret? You guys are sharp. I'm sure you can figure it out if you really think about the characters. It's not that hard. And if you still can't, we'll get to it in the next chapter.**_

_**I just watched the one sneak peek clip that was released for next week's episode. OMG...too cute! It's on EW (insidetv dot ew dot com, if you want to watch it and haven't seen it yet). And my goodness...finally a blatant shipper moment!**_

_**So...thoughts? Comments? I love to hear from you!**_


	15. Chapter 15

_**Okay...this is really weird. You guys know, if you've read Blizzard and then this story, a large part of the premise of the two stories is what happened when Beckett sprained her ankle. Not life-threatening, but definitely an inconvenience, especially for her. Well, folks, I have a (literally) painful confession to make...**_

_**I sprained my ankle last night...**_

_**No lie. Yes, folks, I have officially done to myself what I did to poor Beckett in my story. Is that just some sort of weird writer's karma, or what? To make it more weird (in relation to this story), we were also getting snow at the time...about 6 inches. No blizzard, but oddly similar just the same. And no, I wasn't trying to do some really weird and painful version of writer's research, although that thought did immediately occur to me (even though if that was the case, I should have really done it a year ago.) I even sort of did it the same way as I wrote for Beckett...going down steps. Rolled it. Luckily, my x-rays were negative too. Now, experiencing this myself, I realize I was kinda mean to poor Beckett. But I felt a bit better when I realized that I gave her Castle to take care of her, and he was awesome! Now, I really wish that *I* could have a mansion with a millionaire to take care of me!**_

_**(And to make it even slightly more weird, I'd already planned to have steak and vegetable kabobs tonight for dinner, which is what they cooked on the grill on the three-season porch after she hurt herself during their blizzard.)**_

_**Regarding the story, I'm going to make some references in the next few chapters to things that happened in early and mid-season 3, slightly after I started writing Blizzard. So the timeline will be just slightly skewed, but I hope you'll forgive me for it. I'm also making some assumptions about business-y things, so I hope my assumptions are believable.**_

_**Disclaimer: The characters are not mine, but the 'life imitating art' coincidences belong entirely to me and my imagination and apparent klutziness (unfortunately).**_

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><p>The time had come.<p>

Alexis was spending time with friends, it being a Saturday night, and Martha was of course out on the town. Rick had thought about the evening for the last couple of days. He was tempted to take her out, but what he was tempted to do would technically be classified as their first date, at least according to the 'vision' that he'd shared with her. And he didn't want to have that first date now. He wanted to wait until...after. He needed to have something to look forward to when this whole mess was done. At least, he hoped he would have something to look forward to, Kate-wise, when this whole mess was done.

He let her pick the menu. Spaghetti. And meatballs. He was surprised by the simplicity in what she'd chosen. He would have gladly flown in fresh lobster from Maine, but if she wanted spaghetti and meatballs, then that's what she was going to get. And spaghetti and meatballs could be considered comfort food, so that might bode well for him too.

He picked her up after he did some grocery shopping. Now, after weeks of being off the crutches and having some independence back, she didn't think twice about helping him carry the grocery bags up to the loft, nor did she give it a second thought when she just automatically started unloading the bags. All of those weeks ago when she was staying at the loft, she was annoyed and worried that she was getting too comfortable in Rick's home when she mentioned to him that he needed bacon. But now, she just chatted with him about nothing in particular as she helped put away the groceries, not even realizing that she was acting even more at home in the loft now than she did all of those weeks ago.

Rick noticed, of course, but he certainly wasn't going to voice the thought.

He asked her to leave the meat and some of the other ingredients out for him. She turned around from the refrigerator, asking, "Why?"

"So I can get started on the meatballs."

"Get started doing exactly _what_ with the meatballs?" She had a puzzled look on her face, and he supposed the look on his face now mirrored hers because he really had no idea why she was asking what she was asking.

"Uh...making them?" he answered.

"Making them? Like you mean you're taking little blobs of meat and you're going to cook them?"

"Well, it's more than just blobs of meat, but basically, yeah."

"Uh, why?"

"Beckett, I have a lot of things, but one thing I do not have is a meatball tree. So we have to make the meatballs. Okay?"

She rolled her eyes. "No, Mr. Smart Aleck. That's not what I meant. I mean, why don't you just buy the meatballs that are already made?"

He shrugged. "Where's the fun in that? And mine taste better anyway."

She glanced at the package of meat. "Okay, you're making meatballs with ground tenderloin? Seriously? That's a steak, and an expensive one. And you're using it to make _meatballs_?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah. Wait until you taste them," he said with an excited smile, and then started assembling the other ingredients he would need. He was oblivious to her in his concentration, but she stared at him before she shook her head in amused wonder. With all of the wining and dining he'd done for her in the past weeks, she'd tried to choose something simple when he'd asked her what she wanted for dinner. So then the man decides to make his own meatballs, using one of the costliest cuts of meat that was available. Only Castle.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The meatballs were good, probably some of the best meatballs she'd ever tasted. She did have to concede that to him, especially when she went for seconds.

She was also a little surprised at the detail that he went to for what was supposed to be a simple dinner. Fancy napkins, candles on the table, mood lighting, a good wine. Sultry jazz on the stereo, not too loud and not too soft.

With her job, she was used to reading people. And while she didn't typically make it a habit to consciously try to 'read' the people that she was closest to, it was still something that just happened naturally anyway. And now, as she ate with Rick, and realized what he'd done for their supposedly 'simple' dinner, she was beginning to get a different type of vibe. And it wasn't just the table setting, the food or the mood. It was the attitude of the man himself. He would smile at her, loaded little smiles, but then other times he'd be a million miles away. And some of those smiles...she knew they were for effect only. But she could see through them. She knew that they were just meant to distract. The smiles were almost like he'd smiled at her in the car after the breakfast casserole debacle, when he obviously had something on his mind, but wouldn't tell her.

They cleared the dishes and then retired to the living room. He sat down and she sat next to him, right up against his side, which was the normal position for her now. She leaned against him and reached down to take off the boot she'd been wearing. When her foot was free and the boot was placed out of the way, she leaned back and immediately found a set of lips attached to hers and felt large hands bracketing her back and combing through her hair as he pressed her back into the couch.

She didn't expect the sudden romantic assault, but hey, she wasn't going to stop to complain.

They'd had their share of make-out sessions during their non-date, just-spending-time-together evenings. And she loved every minute of them, even though they both always seemed to have a mutually unspoken agreement to stop before things got too heated. Sometimes, after he left, she wished she was more confident about everything and could just rip his clothes off and tell him to text Alexis and tell her that he wouldn't be coming home tonight. But she always stopped herself, and he never asked. And ever since that day, when they'd sat talking in the car, he'd been just a bit more hesitant. He said it didn't have anything to do with 'them', and she believed him then. And she continued to believe him, but she still wondered what was going on, and with the paranoid, insecure girl part of her that still lurked somewhere deep inside every woman, she couldn't help but wonder if it really was something to do with her.

So this return to the 'old' Rick, the playful one, the romantic one, was a welcome surprise for her, especially after all of the wondering she'd been doing, and the doubts that had still leaked through despite his reassurances. He could still melt her insides with kisses like he was giving her now, and she very willingly turned off her mind and fell into just being with him.

But it ended all too soon when he broke his lips away from hers. And not only that, his body left hers, no longer pushing her into the couch, but instead getting up and walking to the other side of the room as he ran his hands through his hair.

She took a couple of deep breaths to get her equilibrium back and sat back up on the couch. "I don't know about you, but I didn't think we were anywhere close to being done." She gave him a sultry little smile, and judging from the look that he gave her, he agreed. She could feel the heat from his gaze across the room. "So what's wrong? And don't tell me nothing. I'm not buying that anymore."

"Can't get anything past you, can I?" he attempted to joke.

"That's why I'm a detective," she quipped back, but then she got serious. "But really, Rick, what's going on? You've been different. You wouldn't tell me when I asked you about it a few weeks ago. You just said you'd snap out of it. And you have, for the most part. But I know you, and something is still wrong. Why won't you tell me?"

He sighed and shook his head, looking defeated and kind of glum. "I tried to get out of it, I really did. I just didn't want to say anything about it before because I was afraid you'd..." he stopped abruptly.

"Afraid I'd what?" she prompted.

He shot her a wary look. And then he walked back over to the couch and sat down next to her, drawing one leg up on the couch so he could face her. He reached up and touched her cheek lightly. "I know this is still kind of new...with us...and I didn't want to hurt you."

"Castle, tell me," she whispered, starting to worry about how serious he was being, about how torn up he looked.

He let his hand drop to cover hers as he took a deep breath. "Do you remember when you were staying here, when Paula was waiting for me when we got home that one night?"

"Paula? Your agent? You mean when she caught us kissing and you had that several hour long meeting with her?" He nodded. "Okay, so what about her?"

"She came because my publisher is threatening to sue me, and she needed to impress upon me the importance of living up to the terms of my contract."

"Sue you? Why would they want to sue you?"

"Because my contract states that I'm required to make a certain amount of public appearances in order to promote my books. Because I've always been..." he stopped, like he really didn't want to finish the thought. Kate just raised an eyebrow at him, as if to tell him to get on with it and stop stalling. "I've always been one of the more visible authors around, you know...parties, fundraisers, big events, page six. Anyway, I have to do promotional things, including book signings." He took a deep breath. "Tours."

"Tours? Like sixteen cities in three days?"

He finally smiled, even though it was a little one. "Not quite that bad, but that's the general idea, yes." And then he looked like was holding his breath as she sorted it all out in her mind.

"A book tour," she clarified, speaking slowly and thoughtfully.

"Yes," he said, letting some of that breath out with the word.

"You have to go on a book tour."

"Yes." He couldn't read her expression, and then he seemed to not be able to hold anything in any longer. "Kate, I really don't want to go, but it's in my contract. I tried to get out of it, but last fall I had that tour scheduled and then I ended up canceling it..." he trailed off.

"When you came back to the precinct...when you started shadowing me again. Your book had just been published..." she said, remembering, filling in the blanks for him, nodding slowly because she knew that he'd been scheduled to make appearances, but then he'd won the bet about the counterfeiting case and he came back and started shadowing her again. And for some reason, she'd never given a second thought to _his_ professional life and career. That realization made her feel kind of shallow. But of course, she didn't realize the extent to which he was ditching his professional committments either.

"Yes. And it's too late to catch the release of that, but it'll be released in paperback soon, and they want me to tease the new book a bit too."

She was still nodding. Then she smiled, which he did _not_ expect. "A book tour. That's it? God, Rick, I thought you had some disease or were being sued for paternity by some bimbo or something. But a book tour?" She shook her head and smiled again. "Wow. Okay, fine. You're an author, that's expected, I suppose. So how long?" she asked with a casual shrug.

He looked almost pained, like he didn't want to tell her. He visibly leaned back a bit before he told her quietly, "Six to eight weeks?"

"_What_?" she asked. Now the smile was gone in favor of shock. "Where are you going? Saturn?"

"I know it's long, but there are...concessions that I have to make because of my previous cancellations. I'm sorry, Kate."

She nodded. He had a book tour coming up, and it was a long one. She could do the math, and she could remember the change in attitude; she could tell he'd known about this for a while. A book tour...she could handle that. Yet he'd obviously kept it from her. And she had to know the truth about that, before they talked about anything else. So she looked him right in the eyes and asked forcefully, "A book tour is one thing, Rick, but you keeping it from me is worse. So do you care to share with me exactly why the hell you waited so long to tell me that you could be gone for almost two months?"

* * *

><p><em><strong>The other half of the conversation will be continued in the next chapter.<strong>_

_**I gave you all the hint in my last chapter, and I was happy to see that quite a few of you got it. I hope I didn't disappoint you with the simplicity. I think there was some line in the S3 premiere that talked about him doing a book tour, and then it was never mentioned again. So I went on the assumption that he cancelled it and started back at the precinct, but now that decision is coming back to haunt him. Rick's reasoning as to why he was so worried about telling her will come out in the next chapter, so don't flame me for that yet. Now, honorable mentions for figuring out the 'secret' go to LorelaiGilmore, JRob41319, Ariel119, gmay, and emmy the vampire.**_

**_And thank you to Mark C and Amybf19 for their consistent comments after each chapter, telling me what worked well. It really helps!_**

_**I know this is shorter, but I have to go take a pain pill for my ankle and get to bed now. More soon! **_

_**And don't forget to leave me a review...I love hearing if you liked anything in particular. And please, I hope nobody tells me that they sprained their ankle just to feel closer to the Blizzard Beckett. ;-)**_


	16. Chapter 16

_**This chapter took a little longer to write. I had a PM 'conversation' with a reader who expressed some frustration with the one-sidedness of the relationship. With that explanation, I looked at it in a different light and decided to tweak some things. And it also stems from some of my own frustration with the show, how we're still doing the loaded looks and simple gestures in terms of the relationship. They did that two years ago. And I'm finding it hard to believe that after an ILY, where he said it and she heard it and she's admitted that she's ready to move on, there hasn't been more blatant movement of the relationship. I love the show, but (IMO) they really need to move this along in a more outright way, instead of just continuing to do the little teases like they did in Season 2, and then never talk about anything. Been there, done that.**_

_**But anyway, my story...you will see a different Rick in this chapter. I'm a little nervous about debuting him, but I hope you continue to give the story a chance. **_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, and any references to other species that may have had a prominent part in the most recent episode are purely coincidental.**_

* * *

><p><em>Previously: Rick finally told Kate about his big secret: he had to go on a book tour, a long book tour. Then she figured out that he'd known for a while, yet he'd kept it a secret from her. And she's waiting for him to tell her exactly why he kept it from her.<em>

He didn't like the look in her eyes; it was what he'd feared all along, in one form or another. The distrust. The controlled anger. "I know you've known about this for over a week. That was that thing...from the car that one day, after the breakfast casserole. The thing you wouldn't tell me about. Right?"

He nodded. "But I wasn't trying to keep it from you-"

"Oh, really?" she said sarcastically. "Then I'd hate to see it if you _were_ trying to keep something from me. God, Castle, I thought you knew enough about me to realize that keeping something like this from me wouldn't really be the smartest thing to do."

"No, Kate...that's not what I meant. I was always going to tell you. But...can you give me a chance to explain? Please?" His eyes were boring into hers, pained, begging her to let him explain. "Since I found out, I've been going over this, trying to figure out the best way. I just want to..."

She was mad; that was a fact. But she was hurt too. But she couldn't resist the look in his eyes, or his plea. "Castle..."

"Please, Kate. Just listen. Come on."

She huffed out an exasperated breath as she looked away for a moment. When she looked back at him, she asked, "Okay. When? When do you go?" she asked simply.

"Next week."

She let out a whistle. "Wow...they're not wasting any time, huh?" At his shrug, she read between the lines and her eyes narrowed a bit. "Rick, why didn't you tell me sooner?" she asked him softly.

"Kate, I..." He looked like he was struggling with what to say. And he was, because he knew he had to put this in the right way. "I know you're still unsure about...us. Underneath everything. I know we haven't been together that long, and I was worried that you'd think that I didn't care or that it didn't matter to me. I guess I just wanted some time with you without that hanging over our heads. I had to make a choice, and yes, I chose not to tell you right away. And the plans weren't finalized until recently, anyway. Some of it is still up in the air, even now."

"I don't like having things kept from me. I'm an adult, Castle. I should be treated like one and be given pertinent information. We're dating, right? So if you're going to be gone for a long time, don't you think I should know?"

"I know, honey, and I didn't mean to keep it from you, not like that anyway." The endearment, one that she hadn't heard since he called her that that one time in the Hamptons, made her insides flutter just a little bit. And that shouldn't happen. She was mad at him. He shouldn't be able to call her 'honey' and make her insides fluttery when she was mad at him. But he sounded so sincere. "I mean, it wasn't because I didn't trust you. I just wanted us to enjoy being together, without always having it in the back of our minds that it was only for a short time until I had to leave."

"So I guess that's why you've been acting so weird lately? Because of this tour, and you didn't want to say anything? But I don't get why. I mean, you've done book tours before. And you've been gone before."

"But I've never..." He stopped and ran his hands through his hair. Then he grabbed both of her hands and brought them to his lips for a kiss. "Kate, I've never been involved with you before when I've had a book tour. I didn't want you to think that I'm trying to get away from you, not when we've just started this. I didn't want you to think that this was a casual thing to me, where I could just go away for weeks and it wouldn't matter."

"I don't think..." she said automatically. Castle trying to get away from her? No, that was almost laughable. But then she saw where he was going. "Oh."

He knew that her mind had gone where his had been going these past few weeks, and he forged on. "I'm not trying to leave you, and I don't want you to think that I'm not committed to making our relationship work. I tried to get out of the tour...I did. Look, I'm not an idiot...I know what happened with the FBI guy, and I know what you told me when Josh kept going away. You couldn't make it work if he was always flying off somewhere. I know how it hurt you. But it's not like that now, I swear. I'll be back."

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't feeling a bit of that same dread that she felt whenever Josh would tell her he was going away again. It was there, unconsciously, but hadn't even realized it until he'd brought up Josh. But still, she knew it was different with Rick. Josh had been saving lives, sure, but he _did_ have a choice where he saved those lives. Rick wasn't saving lives, but he had committments just the same; committments that sometimes took him away or required media attention. He wasn't a cop, and he did have a career of his own. A very lucrative career. And he needed to honor those committments now, it appeared. "I...know."

He shook his head. "Do you?" He brought her hands to his chest. "Because I will come back. I really will. And we'll pick up where we left off. Call it a...hiatus."

"I know, Rick." She turned her hands over, the hands that he still held, and grasped his hands with her own. "You being gone that long is...big. But that's not even the biggest issue." She took a deep breath. "You didn't tell me, and I don't like that. You didn't warn me. You've known about it for a couple of weeks! I should have known, Castle, as soon as you did."

He huffed out a breath and threw his hand up in the air in frustration, breaking their grip. "But why, Kate? I explained to you why I didn't say anything right away. To a degree, there wasn't really a point in saying anything then." He saw her eyes get big when he said that, like she was surprised at his claim, but not in a happy way. "Come on. How would it have changed anything?" he prodded, his voice starting to lose the calm, understanding, almost apologetic tone that it had had up until now.

Sensing his frustration, she tried to defend herself and blurted out, "Then I could have decided-" She stopped abruptly, realizing how the words sounded as soon as they were out of her mouth.

The new expression on Castle's face was steely and serious. "So you could have decided to get out while the gettin' was good. So you could cut your losses and run? 'So long, Castle. It was fun while it lasted, but you're leaving and this would never have worked anyway, so we'll just end it now.'," he told her, predicting the words that he thought she would say. "Is that what you want to do? Be honest, Kate."

God, she hated this. She wouldn't have used that as an excuse to run, would she? But her own words had betrayed her. And end it? End...them? "No..." she said automatically, but she wasn't able to bring herself to say anything more.

"Well, if that's not it, then what else is there to 'decide', huh?" he asked, throwing her word back at her.

"I don't...I don't know, okay?" she all but shouted at him. She was becoming a little bit unnerved by him; Castle rarely got angry, and never at her. And now he was, obviously. And she didn't want to admit that she very well may have used him going away as an excuse to run away from their relationship. She took a breath and tried again. "It just...slipped out. I don't know. No, I don't want to end what we have." She said the words, and when she said them, she realized how true they really were. She _didn't_ want to end what they had. "But can't I just be mad for a while because you lied to me?"

"I lied to you?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow. "I never lied to you, Kate."

"Semantics, Castle. I asked you to tell me weeks ago what was bothering you, and you said it wasn't about us. And that you'd work it out. Neither of those is true."

"It wasn't about us...our relationship. And I thought that's what you were asking. But are we affected? Hell, yes! It's not about Alexis, either, but she's affected too. And my mother, and Ryan and Esposito because I won't be there to bug them. But I worked it out, or at least I tried to. I thought I could make the tour shorter, but it didn't work. So, no," he protested confidently, "I did NOT lie to you." He was adamant in defending himself.

"Then why do I feel like you lied to me?" she blurted out again.

"I don't know! You tell me."

"Aren't you the armchair psychologist?" she threw back at him sarcastically.

"Fine! You want my diagnosis? You're pissed because this is one thing you can't control. You can't package it up and make it go according to your plan so it's 'comfortable' for you." He did the air quotes around the word, and then paused before he continued in a slightly lower, but just as forceful voice. "I have a career, Kate. And it isn't following you around, even though you know I enjoy that a lot. And I have to do things to keep that career going, things that I haven't been doing. And now it's coming back to bite me in the butt. And you know what? I tried to put our relationship first, and yes, I kept all of the plans to myself while I tried to mitigate the potential damages and inconvenience. Sue me. Lord knows everyone else wants to," he muttered under his breath. "I was always going to tell you. But I made a judgement call, because I thought that it would be better, like I said, to not have the whole tour in the back of our minds all the time. Get used to being together while we could, without all of that. And yes, I thought if I told you, it would just give you a reason to pull back, to call it quits. Admit it...you've been looking for ways to end this since we got back from the Hamptons, even that first night. So no, I didn't tell you until I absolutely had to because I didn't want to give you an excuse to walk away from me, from us."

He took a breath, before standing up and running his hands through his hair as he stalked to the other side of the room. She was not used to this agitated, brutally honest, somewhat angry Castle, and she simply stared at him, many thoughts churning around in her brain, even though her mouth didn't seem to be able to voice any of them.

He turned around and looked at her, a grim expression on his face. "And now? Now, Detective, my diagnosis is that you're mad because you're realizing that your little writer puppy dog that follows you around won't be there for a while, and you can't do anything about it. And he made some decisions in managing his _own_ career. And you weren't involved in the decisions, even though he tried to make them with you in mind. Even though he tried to make it as easy as possible on you, it just doesn't matter, does it? Because you say you didn't know about every damn thing right from the start."

He paused again and took a much-needed breath in an attempt to calm himself. "You say that I _lied_ to you. Well, fine, Kate; if all of that means lying to you, then I guess there's not much I can do about it. I tried to take you and your feelings into account from the very first time that I heard about this, but that just doesn't mean anything to you, does it?" He paused for a moment. "I guess your puppy's leash broke and now you don't know what to do about it, and you don't like it. It's just too bad that you don't realize that loyal dogs always come back to those who care for them, leash or no leash."

He walked over to the table where he'd set his wallet as Kate sat there, basically dumbfounded, at his outburst. Control? Yes, she liked being in control, knowing what was coming. But he thought she wanted to control him...she could never control him. He almost made it sound like it was an ego trip for her to have him follow her. But it wasn't ever an ego trip; at first he annoyed her, but then she started to appreciate what he brought to her team, and then it was more. He wasn't a cop, but he was her partner and she valued that; she valued him. But he made it sound like she just merely put up with him.

And just a little while ago, when he'd first told her about the book tour, she realized with that uncomfortable jolt how much he had put his own career on the back burner in favor of shadowing her. And he still kept coming in, day after day, even though she was sure he had quite enough information for his books. She realized how unfair she was being in never really asking him about his own career or what he had to do; she just had come to expect him to be around. In the precinct, at crime scenes. Spending long nights in front of the murder board. She knew when he started talking about it that she'd been unfair to him in not considering that very important aspect of his life more. But then the anger had gotten the better of her when she realized that he'd deliberately kept the tour from her. And after the seed of anger was there, then her protective instincts kicked in, and she'd had that urge to blame, and then to flee. He was right about that. But it was a gut-instinct, conditioned response from past relationships. Sitting there now, after seeing _him_ get angry and say his piece, she knew she didn't want to run. What he said wasn't true. She had so much to say, but she just didn't know where to begin. So while he was at the table, she tried to gather her wits-which wasn't really easy because she just was _not_ good with 'relationship talks', as Castle had called them weeks ago-so she could start to explain herself and refute what he was implying.

But she only was able to utter the word "No" in response to his verbal barrage before he turned around and held up a hand, indicating for her to stop talking. He carelessly tossed a business card in her direction and it landed on the couch side of her.

"There. That's the card for my car service. As you can probably guess, I'm not really up to driving you back to your place tonight. So just call the car service and arrange for them to take you home." She could see his lips were set in a grim line, and the words he spoke were clipped and strained. Once again, she was going to say something in response to that, but then he started talking again and she didn't get the chance. "I'm going to bed now. I'm kind of beat. I'm sure you can understand. You can just let yourself out whenever it's time to meet the car service downstairs. Good night."

To his retreating back, she said "Castle...Rick..." But he just ignored her and continued into his room, closing the door with a soft click. And she was left sitting on the couch, wondering how the evening had gone so wrong, and how-or if- she could make it right with him again.

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><p><em><strong>There you are. Like I said in the beginning, a different type of Castle. Think Knockout, but even edgier than he was there. <strong>_

_**I hope I didn't turn anyone off, but after thinking about it, I think they were heading toward a blowup of some sort especially with the book tour coming up. She's too edgy and uptight about things, even yet, and he was too laid back and willing to please. It's like when two storm fronts collide...not good.**_

_**I'd love to hear your thoughts (I think), but please be gentle.**_


	17. Chapter 17

_**All I can say is...wow. Actually, make that WOW! What an incredible response for the last chapter! I thought people would really dislike such a different Castle than we normally see in the show. But I went with it anyway, and I'm glad I did. And I give tremendous thanks to all of the people who reviewed the chapter and PMd me with their comments. Even the few people who said that they didn't like it, I appreciated those comments too, because you told me why. I SO appreciate you all sharing your thoughts with me, and I hope that you continue to do that. I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations.**_

_**Disclaimer: the usual.**_

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><p>Kate sat on the couch after the door clicked shut. And she sat, staring at the closed door, almost willing it to open again with a remorseful Castle standing there. But she didn't see that. She just saw the cold, empty, <em>closed<em> door to his room. And it didn't open.

What went wrong? She'd never seen Castle like that before. He was angry, and even moreso, he was angry with _her_. She could count on one hand the number of times she'd actually seen him angry, and it had never before been directed at her. She'd seen him hurt, disappointed, worried, remorseful, glum or preoccupied. But angry? Sarcastic? That was so not Castle.

But he was angry, and even though it stung to admit it, she had driven him to that anger. She still didn't know exactly how it had happened. She'd been blindsided by the book tour thing, yes. But then something inside her went to a different place when she realized that he'd known about it and hadn't said anything. For a long time. She felt manipulated; maybe that was it. He didn't tell her, when he could have. She leaned into the back of the couch with a sigh, wondering how the evening-and their whole relationship up until this point-could have turned around so quickly, and in such a bad way. She never thought she'd see that day when Rick would angrily all but kick her out of his house. And she didn't want to think about what that could mean...for them.

But what did he say...that she was looking for an excuse to walk away? Her mind churned with everything that he'd said, and that one thing stuck out at her. And that was why he said he didn't tell her about his tour. In the silence of the living room, she thought back to that first night back from the Hamptons, when she had, indeed, tried to shrug off their new relationship as a vacation fling. She didn't know how to handle it, a relationship with this famous man who had been her shadow for so long, a man who had at first annoyed her but who she eventually started to like and admire...so she tried to just pretend it didn't exist. But he wouldn't let her brush it off. And then her mind unconsciously flitted to the night of the carriage ride, when she made the remark about calling it quits. They never addressed it head-on, but did he think that she wanted to walk away even then, when she made that remark? She knew what she'd told him about her relationships, and what he'd probably gleaned over the last few years. If there was one thing the man was, it was a champion information-gleaner. So yes, she had to admit that she'd given him some reason to think that she was looking for a chance to bolt at the first opportunity. And him being gone for over a month, maybe even two, was a hell of an opportunity. Especially with her history.

But would she have run? And did she want to run now? He was giving her the perfect opportunity to run, to leave-right here and now-if that's what she wanted to do.

She looked back at the door to his room, behind which was a man she probably cared more about than she'd like to admit right now. She didn't know the answer to that first question, but she knew the answer to the second. It was a big, fat, resounding NO. She didn't want to run. She might have had an instinct to run way back when, and she knew that's what her tendency was with relationships...never give too much. Don't get in too deep so when things turn bad, you haven't lost much. But with this relationship, she'd started to wonder...what if things never did turn bad? She'd felt different with Castle, right from the start, so maybe that's why she agreed to this. She didn't know what was in store for them, but she sensed even back then that it could be good. Even now, she wanted a chance to experience that, and she still wanted to be experiencing that in a few months when he was back from his tour.

And somehow, she had to make him understand that.

She was still kind of mad at him for not telling her sooner, but she had to admit that she could see more of his reasoning now. It didn't make it better, or right, but she could see a little bit of what he'd been thinking.

She didn't know how long she sat there and stared at the door. Finally, when she could bear to look away, she glanced down to the couch side of her and she saw the business card for the car service that he'd so casually flung toward her. She stared at it for several moments with distaste, like it was a disgusting bug. Even then, after all of that introspection, she was still reeling from what Rick had said, and then when he'd walked out on her. And suddenly, that little business card laying on the couch next to her represented more than just a ride home. It symbolized their argument. And even though she knew she wasn't acting like the adult that she'd just professed to Castle that she was, it still didn't stop her from picking up the business card and forcefully ripping it in half. And when that felt good, better than she thought it could, she ripped those halves in two. And she kept repeating the smaller pieces until she could rip no more; until she had a small pile of very tiny pieces of cardstock. And with some satisfaction, she realized that there was no way that she could see the number now, even if she did happen to piece everything together. The paper was just too mangled now.

She threw the pieces down on the table with a little smile. Now she'd just have to stay here. And if Rick wanted her to go home, then by God, he could take her himself.

_After_ she said what she needed to say.

Or she'd just stay here until he listened.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

After he shut the bedroom door, he shuffled over to the bed without even turning on the light. The sudden anger that he'd felt was dissipating, and now it was being replaced by something akin to disbelief. Did he _really_ just say all of that to Kate?

He shook his head as if to clear it, but it didn't really do any good. He just about never blew up at people. He did get mad at Paula though, and that was about the damn book tour too. Maybe he should have just done the tour last fall instead of going back to the precinct. But then immediately, his mind reasoned that he might never have gone back to the precinct, and he and Kate likely wouldn't be in a relationship now.

But after what he just said, were they in a relationship _now_? Still, after all of that?

He blew up, no doubt about it. And he shouldn't have done that. But at that moment, when he felt that first fissure of anger in his normally easygoing demeanor, he just felt like all he'd done had been for nothing. Hadn't he spent the past several weeks trying to show her how much their new relationship, and she herself, meant to him? He'd given her space when he'd sensed that she needed it. He tried to be romantic and caring. He brought her breakfast, although that had actually turned into a comedy of errors. But then, as soon as there was the least little obstacle that didn't go with her plans, she accused him of lying to her. And it was tough to admit that it hurt.

After everything, she still didn't trust him enough to hear him out, to really _listen_ to his reasoning, to try to see it from his side. And yeah, that hurt too.

He toed off his shoes and with some satisfaction, flung them up in the air and let them land where they would. He didn't care. He scooted onto the bed and positioned himself back against the headboard. He was mentally exhausted after laying it all out there like he did, but he wasn't actually sleepy-tired. He knew he'd never sleep anytime soon with his mind churning the way it was, so it seemed that he had a lot of time to think about everything.

He did regret what had happened; well, at least parts of it. For the most part, he didn't regret the message of what he'd said. He did have a career that he needed to manage, and she needed to realize that. And she had issues, he knew that. But hell, everyone had issues of some sort. But this was a two-way street. Yes, at first it was all about her job, her career, and just...her; that was the nature of the beast when he began shadowing her to base a new character off of her. But a relationship was different. There had to be give and take between both people; both people had to be important, and deserved consideration.

But when she accused him of lying to her-an accusation that he did not take lightly, especially coming from someone he cared about as much as he cared about Kate-the creative, dramatic part of him took over. At that part, when coupled with the anger and hurt that he felt, turned some of his words into razor-sharp weapons. He knew his words were biting,

He'd really been trying to do the right thing with not telling her right away. Like he told her, he just wanted to settle everything first as much as he could, and let her-and him-settle into the relationship more before he dropped the bombshell that he would be an absentee boyfriend. Somehow, through it all, he thought it would be better to wait. But hindsight was 20/20, and now he could see that he must have had on his rose-colored glasses if he thought that she wouldn't be annoyed-highly annoyed-when she realized that he'd not told her about the tour right away.

Damned if you do and damned if you don't. That about summed things up.

But what did it matter now? It was done. She was upset. He was mad. Well, he was mad before; by now he'd just fallen into the realm of agitated, bothered, and worried. If he had told her way back he'd found out, she would have most likely run...invented some reason to not give them a chance. And now? Now it seemed that they were doomed anyway, because she felt that he'd lied. It didn't matter to her why he did what he did, even though he'd explained it, even though he'd only intended the best. She still thought the worst of him. What it boiled right down to was that she just didn't trust him.

After everything, after him sticking around for _years_ to shadow her, after he let her see the real him instead of just the public persona, after him proving to be almost as dedicated to solving her mother's murder as she was, after her spending time with his family and basically living with him for those couple of weeks, she still didn't trust him. He thought they were building something, but now he was seeing that when it came right down to basic, gut-instinct trust, he didn't have hers. And if they didn't have trust, they didn't have anything. And it was _that_ feeling that was settling through him now, deep in his gut, gnawing at him like a hungry rat attacks fresh food.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

He didn't know how long he'd been sitting on his bed ruminating about their argument. The thoughts just kept going through his head. Not all of the bad ones from tonight, but some of the good ones from the past several weeks were mixed in there too, like the fun time they'd had when his whole family had gotten into Kate's therapy by writing letters with their toes. He was lost in thought so much that he didn't even hear his bedroom door open. He did, though, sense a presence in the room, and when he looked up, expecting to find his daughter, he was surprised when he saw Kate instead. And she was standing there right inside his doorway, hands on her hips, looking at him defiantly.

He schooled his facial features to remain impassive and said the first thing that came to his mind. "What are you still doing here? Thought you'd be long gone by now."

Oh, those words, and the impersonal tone in which they were spoken, cut. They cut right into her. This wasn't _her_ Castle. _Her_ Rick didn't talk like that. But right now, hearing the tone of his voice, she had to wonder if he was hers anymore at all.

"We weren't done."

"What? You didn't get enough to eat?" he asked with deliberate ignorance. "Go rummage around in the kitchen and you can take something with you when you leave." He was still reeling from what felt like rejection from her, when he'd tried as hard as he could to make 'them' work. He just wanted to be alone, not see her and have it rubbed in his face how stupid he'd apparently been to try to build something with her.

"I'm not leaving."

"What is it now? The car service isn't good enough for you? I thought you'd be so anxious to get back to your apartment. I know that staying here was such a trial when you were forced to. You kept talking about how you couldn't wait to get home. So what are you waiting for now?" As he heard the words, he almost couldn't believe they were coming from his mouth. But really, he'd had enough already tonight. He needed some time to lick his wounds in private, and he didn't need her to be staring him in the face. Just her presence reminded him of how much she didn't trust him.

She stared at him. Who was this man? "Rick..."

"Not in the mood, Beckett. If you could be sure to close the door on your way out, I'd appreciate it." His words not-so-subtley ordered her to leave yet again, but she was _not_ used to being ordered around, and she especially didn't like it when she had something to say.

"Dammit, Castle," she started saying as she backhandedly slammed the door shut as she started stalking over toward him. But her stalking was interrupted when, in the darkness of the room, she didn't see the obstacle in her path, namely the shoe that Rick had kicked off his foot and left randomly in the middle of the floor. He normally didn't leave his shoes laying around like that, but he also didn't think anyone would be barging into his room this evening either. When she was a few feet away from the bed where he sat, her recovering foot took a forceful step, and her sock-clad toes connected firmly with the shoe, making her wince and pull up her foot out of reflex from the previous injury. And she fell toward the bed.

"Ow! God, Castle, what is this...an obstacle course?" she hissed after she landed on the bed. "Or do you have your room booby-trapped so nobody can get to you?"

"Neither. Just my shoe. I didn't really expect visitors tonight." He saw that she'd hit it with her right, injured foot; he really wanted to ask how it was, but he didn't. He couldn't stand to hear any of her probable comebacks about her being fine, about him not having to worry, about him hovering. Not now. So he said nothing.

She sat on the edge of the bed and massaged her big toe. "Your footwear certainly did a number on my toe, Castle. You must have really good leg muscles to walk around in those heavy things all day," she observed, trying for lighthearted; Castle always responded better to lighthearted. She waited for the joke about the heels that she normally wore every day, but it never came. She looked up and she just found Rick leaning against the headboard again, his eyes staring only at the hands that were clasped over his chest.

"Rick?" she asked hesitantly after several seconds.

Finally he looked up at her. It struck her how closed off his face looked to her. His eyes were wary when he answered, "What?" as he lifted one of his hands and put it behind his neck to lay his head back on it.

"We need to talk about this," she told him softly.

He looked at her face as she sat there on the edge of the bed, all worried and wondering. She didn't look annoyed anymore, and that was good. She looked beautiful, and wonderful, and he just wished he could forget everything and lean forward and grab her and kiss her. But he couldn't forget what had just happened, and what he'd finally figured out. "Look, Beckett, I just need some time now, okay? And I should start, you know, packing or something. So just go call the car service and we can talk some other time."

"No. I can't."

"You can't? You can't what?"

"I can't call the car service. I kind of ripped up the card with the number."

He stared at her for a full five seconds, obviously trying to figure out her comment, and she thought for sure he'd say something, but he must have decided that he didn't even want to touch that one. "Fine, then. The guest room upstairs should have fresh sheets and everything. You know where it is."

She cocked her head to the side as if considering his words. Then she surprised him by turning around and very quickly laying back against him, her head in the space where he had his arm bent up behind him. "No, I think I'd rather stay here," she said resolutely, even somewhat haughtily, as she settled down against him, as if she was almost challenging him to try to kick her out once again. But when she continued, he could hear the steely determination in her voice. "Because you said what you needed to say, and now there are a few things that I need to say too."

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><p><em><strong>The chapter was getting too long and I realized that I had to split it. Sorry for the cliffy. But I'm not sure that there would possibly be a way to split it and not do a cliffy. I realize we haven't even gotten into the discussion yet, so I hope this chapter wasn't too boring for you all. And I do apologize if it was.<strong>_

_**I know a lot of you said that you wanted him to make it hard for her...don't let her off the hook so easily. And that was my intention all along. The poor guy tried to do the right thing, but it just royally backfired on him. And he's hurting because of her reaction and her accusation about him lying to her, which really was a cutting insult for him just because he's such a loyal guy and tries to do the right thing. So no, he's not just going to welcome her back right now as if nothing has happened. But now we get to look forward to what Beckett has to say to him in the next chapter! **_

_**So...thoughts? **_

_**On a funny note, the grammar geek in me got a kick out of using the word 'defiantly' in this chapter...the vast majority of the time when I see this word used in fanfics, it's used incorrectly, when the author means 'definitely'. So I enjoyed using it this time, the correct way.**_

_**Now, onto my feelings on the show right now (don't read if you don't care): One thing that I noticed from the comments after the last chapter was that so many people said that Castle really needs to stand up for himself in the show more too. I honestly don't know how the man can be THAT patient, if he loves her like he's supposed to; how he can't push her even a little, even if it's just unconsciously (especially after that look she gave him in the bank during Cops and Robbers). In my continuing PM discussions with some readers, it seems like the writers are just dragging this out so long to the point that it doesn't seem realistic in terms of the relationship any more, at least to me. I hope when the secrets come out, he stands up for himself, a la Knockout, but he doesn't walk out like he did then. I just have a feeling that with the way this season is going, they're going to drag it out to the end, and they're going to use that to keep them apart for the summer. Hope that's not the case, but that's just what's been flitting around in my mind lately. Of course, I'd be happy to be proven totally and completely wrong about that.**_


	18. Chapter 18

_**An interesting tidbit about the origins of this fic: today is the one year anniversary of the blizzard that dropped a ton of snow on our area. And that was the blizzard that inspired 'Blizzard'! How cool is that? 'Blizzard' will be a year old tomorrow! Happy birthday, 'Blizzard'!**_

_**Disclaimer: I own none of the characters.**_

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><p><em>Previously: Castle and Beckett had a fight. He tried to kick her out, but she's not going. She stormed into his room to try to talk to him, and she just very boldly made herself comfortable against him, and is preparing to get him to talk to her, and to listen to her.<em>

She laid back against him, and after she said her piece, she didn't say anything else for a few minutes. She just settled in against Castle; his body was so warm and comfortable, and it was sad to think that she almost didn't experience this. And that she certainly wouldn't have if she'd followed his many instructions and had gone away when he'd told her to.

She was wondering if she should let him speak first. At least he wasn't physically pushing her off of him, despite him having told her to leave several times, so that was good. But with the way she could see that he was now, she came to the conclusion that the next move would have to be hers, and she'd have to say the right thing. She just hope that she could find the right words to say.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

What did she think she was doing? Not only did she barge into his room after he was very explicit about telling her to go home, but now she decided to get comfortable in _his_ bed and use _him_ as a pillow.

"Comfortable?" he couldn't resist asking, with a wry tone to his voice. My, he was just the master of sarcasm tonight, wasn't he?

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am, thank you," she replied politely, evidently choosing to ignore his sarcasm. "But I'd be more comfortable if you'd put that arm around me."

So was this coy, apologetic Beckett? Well, he supposed she was coy, but she certainly hadn't apologized for anything yet.

He kept his arm where it was for the time being, behind his head. He wasn't pushing her off of him or moving to the other side of the bed, so that should be enough. He still wasn't sure what she was trying to prove with her little display of cuddling up to him, but he was pretty good at judging her moods, and he thought it might be her form of groveling. Well, they had a pretty good history of not talking about things, so if she thought she could just snuggle up with him and it would make it all right, then she had another thing coming. And he'd put his arm around her when he felt like putting his arm around her, dammit!

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

After a few more minutes of him in the same position, ignoring her suggestion to put his arm around her, she figured that he was making his own kind of statement. Yes, this was definitely a different Castle than she'd ever seen in the past. And she knew she had to dive in, now or never.

"Do you see me? Do you feel me, Rick? I'm here. I'm not running. Not even when you told me to."

He was silent for a few moments, and then he replied, "Not _this_ time." He sighed. "I'm here, now, Kate, and it doesn't take a detective to know that I'm mad, and yeah, I'll admit I'm hurt. So yeah, human nature says that you want to try to make it better. You have to try to fix it, because that's what you do, right? But then sometime when the next thing freaks you out down the road, you can make another excuse to run, but then it'll be on your terms. Under your control." His voice was tinged with the hurt that he'd mentioned, with, thankfully, no more of that sarcasm that had been so prevalent even a few minutes before.

She slapped his leg lightly. "God, Rick! I'm not leaving. I don't want to leave, not now, and not 'down the road', as you call it."

He let out a stifled chuckle. "Right. Sure thing, Kate. You heard me out there. Don't deny it...you've been trying to look for a reason to leave since we started this. In the Hamptons, we had to have a 'trial' and analyze everything to death. Then you tried to shrug it off as soon as we got back here. God, Kate I'm serious about us! I'm trying to build something, here, and I just don't understand how you can't see that. I've been trying to show you that, but nothing seems to matter."

"I know you're trying," she said softly.

"Sure," he replied, but it was obvious he wasn't really agreeing with her. The sarcasm was back.

"Rick, I do. And honestly, it's been scary sometimes. You've seemed to know exactly how this should go, and you're so comfortable with everything, and I just...I feel like I'm going to screw it up. Or that you're going to decide that me and my baggage just aren't worth it. And then you said you're going away, and..." she trailed off.

He waited a beat, and then prompted, "And what?"

"And when I found out you've known about it for a while and didn't tell me, I just went on autopilot. It just hit me all of a sudden, and I just got this feeling like I was being played."

She felt him move, like he was looking down at her. "You thought I was playing you? You mean, what? Manipulating you? Like it was some game or something?" He sighed somewhat dejectedly and then said more softly, "I guess I was right; you don't trust me."

What? "Trust you? Of _course_ I trust you, Rick!" She was truly amazed at what he said, not just the words, but by the affect she could see that believing that had on him, and she even sat up a bit to turn around to look at him. "How could you think that I don't trust you?"

He stared at her. She was a smart woman; why was she acting so dense about it? He thought it was obvious. "You just said it yourself. You thought I was manipulating you, playing you. Like it was some big game or something...'let's see how long we can keep Kate in the dark.' But it was never like that. I told you that. But it apparently-"

She cut him off. "Castle. Shut up for a minute, will you? I trust you, okay?"

"Yeah, right. That's why as soon as there's a little conflict, you automatically think the worst of me."

She glared at him and raised her eyebrow, a silent admonishment that he didn't shut up. "_As I was saying_," she emphasized as she continued, "I trust you, and if I have a chance to really think about it, I trust you more than a lot of people. You're my partner, right?" He shrugged noncommittally, this time staying silent. "And now you're more than that. But I just...I'm sorry. I just flashed back to...other things. Situations." She paused for a moment to take a breath and gather her thoughts. "I was blindsided when you said you'd be gone, and then _all_ I could think about for a minute was that you knew and you didn't tell me. Castle..." she looked away as she tried to think of a way to tell him. "Okay, you know how you can walk into a situation, and you see something, and your first, gut reaction isn't what you thought?"

He looked at her quizzically, like he was at least considering what she said, so she continued. "Um...the time you said you walked in and you thought your mother was beating Alexis? Remember that? And she was really just rehearsing a part? You told me about that one. Now, come on...would you ever think that your mother could beat your daughter? Really?"

He knew where she was going with this. "It's not the same, Kate."

"Yes, it is. You wouldn't normally think that, but you did think it then, even if was just a fleeting thought. It happens. Is it ideal? No. Does it sometimes make things uncomfortable? Yes. _But it happens_. And that's what happened before. Yes, I was mad that you didn't tell me, and yes, I started to make a stupid comment. I swear, Castle, I don't know what it is, but lately I find myself making a lot of stupid comments around you. But really, that's all it was. And I'm not going to run. I told you that weeks ago." And then, in a show of confidence, as if to drive her words home, she turned back around and laid down against him again, assuming her previous position. "You're just stuck with me. Okay, Castle?"

Even though a week ago, he would have had the grin break his face in two if she had said those words then, in that tone, now he wasn't in that same place. Although he did have to admit that the tone and the words warmed him just a little bit. But he still had to ask the question. "Why?" he said after a minute or two.

"Why what?"

"Why do you want to stick around? Why are you here now, Kate? Why didn't you run when I gave you the chance?"

Oh, what a question. What a perfectly loaded question. There were so many ways she could answer that question. Some of them were flip, some of them were serious, and some of them were just downright scary to admit. But she went with her gut instinct, which was also a less scary combination of the three, when she answered softly, "You mean...something to me, Castle, and I don't want to walk away from that."

He was thoughtfully silent for a moment. "Define 'something'," he requested, his voice just as soft as hers was.

She thought for a moment. How _did_ she define it? "I don't know, exactly. But I know..." She took a deep breath. "I know you mean a lot to me, Rick. You're important in my life. And I think what we have between us could be pretty good down the road. I'm not ready to give up on that, and I hope you're not either." And saying that, admitting even that much, made her glad that she wasn't facing him right at that moment.

He was silent, and his silence began to worry her after a minute. She shifted against him, and only then did she turn her head back around to look at him. He didn't look at her, but finally he said, "I'll be honest, and I have to say that I'm still kind of smarting from this whole thing. I mean, it's...it's kind of like when the doctor said you could put weight on your ankle the first time. The doctor said you could, and you wanted to, but you were still a little bit hesitant because you didn't know if it would support you, or if it would hurt when you did use it."

She digested what he was saying; he was gun-shy. She had to hand it to him; he picked a good metaphor and comparison. _She_ was _his_ ankle Would she support him, trust him? Would she hurt him? They were all things she'd worried about, for herself, too. "Castle, I explained what happened, and it's the truth." Then she had a thought, and she didn't know if she should voice it, but then it occurred to her that they were trying to be honest, so to not voice it would probably be a detriment to what they were trying to do. Too many things were left unsaid, too often, with them. "And you know, part of that feeling that you got...well, I kind of got it too. Because when it comes right down to it, _you_ didn't trust _me_ enough to tell me about the tour when you first found out about it, to not just freak out and dump you. So you're not the only one that's smarting a little bit."

When she said that, his eyes widened slightly before his lips pursed together and he shook his head ever so slightly. "But I explained all of that, Kate. I was just trying to..." he trailed off when he saw the look on her face, the very slight smile.

"Touche, Castle," was all she said while he got clued into what she, herself, had just figured out: that they both had their issues, and they both had their faults, and they both had their reasons for doing what they did, although imperfect. And they both had to find a way of dealing with all of those things in a way that wouldn't destoy what they were trying to build together.

They stared each other down for the better part of a minute. And somehow, Kate sensed a minute shift in the climate in the room. It just wasn't quite as cold. It wasn't balmy by any means, but the cold front seemed to be moving away.

"Rick," she said, laying her hand gently on his leg, "Are we better now?"

He looked at her hand laying there, connecting them by a touch, a visual representation of bridging the chasm that had been created tonight. He didn't do anything at first, just stared at her hand, and she started to get nervous, especially when he didn't answer her question either. But then his hand slowly snaked over and covered hers and as he patted it a few times, he told her truthfully, "No, not better yet, but...we will be."

She let out the breath she wasn't aware she was holding, and simply nodded as she looked down at his hand covering hers. She'd never before realized how such a simple touch as that one could be so comforting. But it was a start, hopefully a fresh start, and it was enough for now.

Rick sighed and said, "Look, this was definitely not how I wanted this evening to go. But I'm just kind of mentally exhausted and I think I should just call it a night."

She nodded.

"So if you want to-"

"Could I just stay here?" she blurted out, interrupting him.

He shrugged. She'd alluded to something being wrong with the card he'd given her for the car service, and he really didn't feel going out just to take her back home. "Sure, I guess. The guest room should be ready for you, and -"

"No," she said, interrupting him once again. "I mean, can I stay _here_," she emphasized, patting the bed that they were sitting on. "With you?"

* * *

><p><em><strong>I know two specific things that people are looking for and wantexpect to happen. And those two things will happen, eventually. But rest assured, I do have a plan for how each of them will happen. Now, I may sound like a certain writer whose show we love, but I promise you I'm not going to drag it out for four years. Promise. **_

_**Public service announcement: if you ever sprain your ankle and it's really swollen, go soak it in a pool for a couple of hours. Wow...what a difference. **_

_**Review? PM? Smoke signal? Let me know what you think. Pretty please with whipped cream on top?**_


	19. Chapter 19

_**Happy Castle Monday! New episode...hope it's as good as the hype. And is it too much to hope for some blatant relationship progress? Yeah, I know, it probably is. Oh, well. I'll still try to enjoy it.**_

_**Longer chapter coming up...lots longer than the last one. This is another one of those chapters where I'm wondering what you're all going to think about it. Castle does something, and while by relationship standards it's not terribly admirable, given his state of mind at the moment, I think it's a natural, logical feeling and reaction. He's human, and imperfect.**_

**_Disclaimer: The usual._**

* * *

><p>"Here? You want to stay here, as in, my room?"<p>

She nodded. It was slightly hesitant, but it was a definite nod.

He just looked at her, brows furrowed. "With me." It was a statement.

"Yes, with you. In the same bed, under the same blankets. Together." Her voice was no longer hesitant, and her eyebrow did the opposite of his when she raised one of them suggestively.

The furrow increased in his brows. He got the message loud and clear what she was implying. "I can't believe I'm about to say this, but no. I mean, you can stay at the loft if you want, you can even stay in here if you want, but for whatever else you're implying? Remember those 'rules' that you made in the Hamptons? Hands off and clothes on? Well, I'm reinvoking them now."

She was indeed implying what he was thinking. They'd been dancing around it long enough, and they'd just had a big fight. What better way to reaffirm their relationship by taking it to another level? And she thought that he'd jump on the chance. Frankly, that he'd jump her. It was a split-second decision, made more with her gut than with her head, but now her head was agreeing. And after listening to what he said, her head was also wondering what in the heck he was thinking. Had he just turned her down?

"Rick..."

But he was having none of her protests, and he was ready with counters of his own. "No, Kate. I know what you're saying, and I want that too. You don't know how much. But not now." He shook his head. "We just had a fight. And kind of a big one, for us." He stopped then, not sure if he should actually voice the thought that had popped into his head. It was a thought that he had from time to time, in different forms, but rarely voiced to her except on those rare occasions when his mouth got a little bit ahead of his brain. But he was in a mood now where he wanted to throw caution to the wind. And, right or wrong, he wanted to see if she was in this with him as much as she had just professed to be. He wanted some more assurance that she wouldn't run at the first opportunity. Because, yes, he had to admit that his trust in her wasn't all there yet. That would take time. And actions did speak louder than her words, after all. So he finished his explanation with the slowly spoken words, "And when we think back on it, when we're _old and gray_," he paused for effect, "I don't want our memory of our first time together to be after a big fight."

Pure and simple, he'd given her a test. And if the truth be told, he wasn't entirely proud of himself for doing that. He actually felt kind of underhanded, for testing her like that, by using the very words that had made her get nervous and flee once before. But old habits were hard to break, and words were just words without actions to back them up. She wasn't one to rehash every single time she'd tried to run away from their relationship, so he knew that would never be done. But right now, he found he needed more assurance than just her blanket statement that she wanted to be in this relationship. So yes, he was still a little wounded, and it made him wonder, and doubt. Even still. But it was done now, and when the words were out of his mouth, he waited patiently to see how she would deal with that impromptu test, and he tried to steel himself for her reaction if and when she realized what he'd done.

And suffice it to say that the reaction he got was _not_ what he'd expected.

Her eyes grew slightly bigger once his words, presumably, had sunk into her brain. Her gaze flitted toward the floor, as if she couldn't look at him. She looked like she wanted to say something, but she couldn't form the words. But then, all of a sudden, her demeanor changed. Her gaze shot back up to his face and her eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at him, assessing him. Her tongue creeped out and wet her lips, and she looked at him thoughtfully for a second before she said, "I can see where that could be a problem." She nodded thoughtfully. "Memories...yeah, memories held for _that_ long should be perfect."

And the look she gave him then said more than words could. She realized the significance of what he'd said, and she also knew full well why he'd said it. He could see that she knew. But when she could have verbally pummelled him for testing her like that, she didn't. She only looked at him, made her statement that basically agreed with him, and in doing that she also let him know, without really directly saying it, that she was trying. Because the fact was that the one thing she _didn't_ do was the most important thing of all.

_She didn't run away from it._

She saw his statement for the test that it was, and she didn't get mad, she didn't leave, she didn't make excuses, nor did she didn't pretend that she didn't hear what he said.

_She stayed._

And he knew that they weren't fixed, but yeah, they were getting there. There was hope. Well, he always knew there was hope, but for the first time in this whole mess tonight, he actually _felt_ that hope.

For the first time since she'd come into his room, he reached out to touch her. Taking her hand, he gave it a squeeze and held it. "And it _will_ be perfect," he proclaimed. "Just... not tonight."

She nodded. "I'm going to hold you to that promise, Mr. Castle. That, and the other one you made about that particular future event." And she smiled a tiny, little bit, and she looked almost a little coy when she did it.

His brows instantly furrowed again, because he wasn't sure what she was talking about. Other promise? "I...what other promise?"

"Oh," she said casually, "the promise you made me a few weeks ago. You don't remember? That's a shame, really." She shook her head with a regret that he knew wasn't quite sincere, although he didn't know quite what it was. He wasn't really sure where she was going with this. But then she continued, and it all became crystal clear. "I was looking forward to the...shall we say, the efforts that you'd go to to try to keep me in your bed for...what was it? A day or two?" And she raised her eyebrow at him again, a very knowing look on her face.

He was transported back to that night weeks ago, when he'd made that proclamation. And it seemed that she'd remembered. Of course _he_ remembered; he didn't make promises like that lightly. But for her to remember, and bring it up now, like she was _looking forward_ to it...well, that was a heady thought. And in light of all of the drama of the evening, it was a welcome thought. Not for right now, for...for sometime. Sometime when he knew they were in a better place, when they both knew that the trust was fully, one hundred percent there, and they didn't have the spector of a recent fight haunting them.

"Okay..." It was lame, he knew, but it was all he could muster right then. "Don't get me wrong, Kate. I want that. But I want us both to know that it's more than meaningless sex, or make-up sex. What I want to have with you...it deserves more than that."

She nodded, because despite all of her coy actions, she knew, deep down, that he wouldn't succumb to her 'pressures'. And for the most part, that was perfectly fine with that. She actually _didn't_ want to base whatever they had on whether or not he'd sleep with her after a fight, or if she was able to seduce him. It was actually, when she thought about it, somewhat of a relief, because it didn't fit with his playboy image, that image that he'd said really wasn't him, but that she nevertheless still unconsciously attributed to him at times. Playboys didn't turn down sure things, they didn't turn down the offer of meaningless, random sex. So to see Rick turn her down...well, it was definitely a solid step toward cementing him as they type of guy with staying power. Toward reassuring her that he was that type of guy.

_If_ they could manage to avoid issues like what happened tonight, where everything just snowballed out of control so quickly.

She sat looking at him while he still held her hand. "Yeah, Rick. I get it." She squeezed his hand back now. She really wanted to lean over and kiss him, but she suddenly felt awkward and unsure. She knew they were in a better place than they had been eariler, but they still weren't there yet. "Rick..."

Her next thought was interrupted by a soft knock at the door, followed by a tentative, muffled call of, "Dad?"

Both of their eyes flew to the door, and Rick's eyes continued their flight to look back at her face. "Do you want to hide in the bathroom?" he whispered to Kate right before he more loudly said, "Just a minute, sweetie," in response to his daughter.

She had an ever-so-brief inclination to take him up on his offer when she realized he was giving her an out from being embarrassed at being 'caught' by his daughter in his bedroom, with the closeness and compromising situations being something she'd initially taken great pains to avoid in Alexis' presence in the weeks they'd been together. But after that ever-so-brief inclination, she realized she didn't want to. She was in a relationship, with him, and that involved his daughter in a peripheral way. And they weren't doing anything worth being embarrassed about.

She didn't say a word in response to him, just lowered her head and gave him a meaningful look out of the top of her eyes. Then she looked toward the door, and before he could respond further to his daughter, she called out, "Come on in, Alexis. We're decent."

Rick gaped at Kate when he heard her response, hell, just the fact that she _did_ respond to Alexis. While sitting on his bed. In his bedroom. She'd gotten rid of a lot of her earlier tenseness around Alexis, but he still wasn't prepared for _that_ reaction. But when the door opened to reveal his daughter, he tampered down his gape and fixed a smile on his face instead.

"I...uh...sorry for interrupting," she started to say as soon as she opened the door. She was obviously uncomfortable at coming in the room when she knew they were in there, but when she saw that Kate's words rang true-they were perfectly decent-she noticably relaxed.

But Kate took the lead again. "Not a problem, Alexis. You're not interrupting." She ended her reassurance with a smile directed at the girl.

"Hi, Kate. I just wanted to say tell you guys that I was home and say goodnight. Oh, and a bunch of us are going ice skating tomorrow afternoon, so I won't be home until later."

"Sounds good, pumpkin," Rick told her.

Alexis glanced back at Kate. "Uh, Kate, you're...staying over, right? I mean, since you're here this late and...everything," she asked as she glanced around the room, subtley indicating that the 'everything' was probably the fact that the two adults were sitting on her father's bed, still holding hands.

"Well, uh," Kate started, not really expecting the question. "I was planning to stay, but if you'd rather I didn't..." she trailed off, stating her intentions, but also wanting to give the girl an out in case she wasn't comfortable with it. After all, Kate's apartment was perfectly fine, so she didn't _need_ to stay there any longer.

"No! I mean, yes...it's fine. I was just wondering...if you're staying, you know, could you maybe make your pancakes tomorrow morning? Or help me make them? They were so good when we made them after the blizzard when we were in the Hamptons, and we didn't get a chance to make them at all when you were staying with us, but now you're here, so..." She finally trailed off, leaving the room in silence after her fast-paced burst of energetic teenage talking.

Kate gave her a smile. "That sounds like a good idea. We can certainly do that. Do you have all of the secret ingredients on hand?" she asked, sliding a sideways glance toward Castle, who she knew never liked being on the outside of a secret. And after the rest of his family agreed that her pancakes were the best, she never did end up telling him the recipe. So the specific reference to the 'secret' ingredients was as much a legitimate question as a way to poke at Castle just a bit. And after the events of the evening, the levity that could be gained by messing with Castle a little bit was something that she couldn't pass up.

And Castle didn't let her down...he took the bait, narrowing his eyes at his daughter. "And to exactly _what_ secret ingredients might you be referring, o' daughter of mine?"

"Secret ones, Dad," she told him unceremoniously. Then, turning to Kate, she said, "I'm pretty sure we have everything. If not, that little store around the corner opens pretty early if we need to pick anything up. And I _do_ know that we have plenty of chocolate chips so we can make dad his chocolate chip pancakes."

"Fine. You're forgiven for not telling me the secret ingredients. Well, you're a little bit forgiven," he pouted. "But I want lots of chocolate chips."

She ignored the father and addressed the daughter. "Sounds good, Alexis. Sweet dreams."

"Thanks. You too. Goodnight, guys," she said, backing out of the room and shutting the door behind her.

She looked back at Rick, and found that he was already looking at her. He became aware that they were still holding hands, and he squeezed her hand again as he said, "So now I guess you have to stay here tonight."

"Anything for Alexis, right?"

"You're going to use my daughter like that?" he asked in mock affront.

"Well, you're using her to get chocolate chip pancakes," Kate pointed out. She wasn't quite sure of the logic, but it sounded pretty good if you didn't analyze it too closely.

"Yes, but that's a father's prerogative."

"And I'm the one with the amazing pancake recipe. So that's _my_ prerogative."

That particular topic of banter was exhausted, and there was an uncomfortable silence between them, where each was wondering what to do next. Finally, he asked, "Do you need a t-shirt or something to wear to bed?"

She shook her head. "No. When I was staying here, I think I left a few things. I'll just go to the guest room and grab them. Be right back." She squeezed his hand before she let go of it, and then left the room. While she was gone, he quickly changed out of his clothes into some pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, brushed his teeth, and crawled into his bed. When he started this evening, making meatballs, he never figured that it would end on the other end of a fight about mutual trust, with her crawling into his bed with him.

She didn't come back right away, but when she did, he saw that she'd already changed and was holding the clothes that she'd worn that day. She sat down on the bed and brought her ankle up so she could rub it a bit.

"Is your ankle bothering you?" Rick asked.

"Not a lot, no. But it's just a little swollen. I was probably on my feet too much today."

"What did you do? Is it from when you hit it on my shoe before?"

She glanced up at him, surprised that he'd even remembered that she stubbed that foot on his shoe; he'd never said anything about it at the time. "No, that was fine after a few minutes. I just went for a long walk today...the weather was nice and I needed some exercise."

"And all you did was walk?" he prompted knowingly.

Busted. But he did know her well. "Well, I may have tried to do a slow jog for a little while."

He shook his head. Slow? Kate? Right. But he didn't say anything. Instead, he sat up and gently grabbed hold of her calf. "Scoot over here."

She stretched out her leg but protested, "Castle, it's okay. You don't have to do anything."

"You know the swelling isn't good for the joint, and you also know that Colin the magic muscle man showed me how to massage it to relieve some of the swelling. So let me give it a try, huh?"

She stretched out her foot toward him, and he began to work on the residual swelling, taking care to not press too firmly on the areas that he knew were still tender. She had to admit that it always felt good when he did that, and now was no exception. But right now it felt even better and somehow, more...healing, given the disagreement they'd had earlier. The fact that they were both here, he was touching her and trying to bring her comfort when hours ago he'd angrily all but ordered her out of his home...well, that was somewhat of a miracle, and she very much did appreciate that things appeared to be getting a little better between them.

While he was working on her leg, she tried for some conversation. But since there was a lot to talk about in relation to his upcoming absence, she didn't want to skirt around the issue. "So what about Alexis? You know, when you're gone? How will she stand being away from you for that long?"

"She wasn't happy to hear about it, especially the length, but we've been through these before, although not in a while. And there are a couple of places on the tour that she'd like to see, so she'll fly out for a couple of long weekends. And my mother will be here with her. And maybe...maybe you can check in with her, see if she needs anything?" He asked the last part tentatively, but hopefully.

"Sure." She nodded. "Of course. So you'll be gone the entire time? No weekend furloughs?"

"Yes, and no, but I tried. Believe me."

"Oh."

He kept rubbing around her lower leg, trying to work the swelling away from her ankle. "I know it won't be fun, and I, personally, will hate being away from you, but we can talk on the phone, we can skype. I'm not going to presume that you'd want to hop on a plane to visit me somewhere, because I know you have your own job here, but know that if you do, you'd always be welcome."

She looked at him, and she saw something that she'd never seen with Josh, or anyone else. When they left, they never looked as remorseful, as beaten up as Castle did now. They tried to minimize the incidents, saying that she'd hardly miss them, it was a great opportunity, all of that. But Castle wasn't trying to do that. He didn't even assume that she'd upend her own life to follow him, like a groupie. She was still digesting this all when she had a thought. "So what types of things do you have to do? How many events each day?"

"It varies. Mostly signings, but local morning talk shows, or the occasional party or charity event. Sometimes only one a day, sometimes a couple. If there's only one in the morning, then generally I'll fly somewhere else after that. There are a few of places where I'll have kind of a home base for several days and then just travel around to different events."

"Oh. It sounds...busy." She didn't really know what to say. That life was so different than what she could imagine. She flopped back on his comfortable pillows and closed her eyes.

"Actually, not really. I mean, with traveling, it can be. But when I'm not traveling, it can get old. You do your thing, but then you just have your hotel room to go back to. And for what it's worth, just to get it out there right now, when I do go back to my hotel room, I fully intend to be going back _alone_."

Her eyes flew open and she found him watching her intently, looking for her reaction. To say she was shocked by his blatant words would be an understatement. She knew he had a different persona in his public life, but she'd just found out about the tour and hadn't even yet gotten to the point of thinking or wondering about his extracurricular activities. "I...I didn't ask," she said quietly.

He could see her surprise-she hadn't been thinking about that-but he was glad he'd been the one to get the topic out in the open and preemptively kill that train of thought before it could even get started in her head. "Not yet. But I'm sure it would only be a matter of time before your mind would start to wonder. So I wanted you know that you don't have anything to worry about."

"You sign chests, Rick," she told him matter-of-factly.

"Yes, I did. But it's not like I copped a feel or started groping."

She just rolled her eyes. And then a traitorous thought flitted into her head...that she wouldn't mind if he groped her a bit. But now wasn't the time, she knew that. But oh, it _was_ an enticing thought.

"And signing a chest," he continued, "is certainly different than inviting someone back to my room. Regardless, I told Paula that because circumstances have changed since my last tour, I'll only be signing books or the promotional t-shirts they made up for the tour."

"T-shirts?" she asked, surprised.

"Yeah. Want one?" he asked, somewhat excitedly, looking more like that usual Castle at that moment than he had during the last few hours. "I can get you one and sign it, and then you can use it as a sleep shirt. Wear it when I'm not here. So you can feel close to me," he finished cheesily.

Oh, the innuendo possibilities with that comment. And she just couldn't resist, especially now that she'd seen a glimpse of the old Castle. "So the shirt will be wrapped around my...naked body, for all that time. And two months from now, the shirt will have felt more of me..." she didn't finish the thought verbally, but the implication was clear. 'The shirt will have felt more of me than you have.'

He blinked, and the smile left his face as his hands stilled on her leg too. Then he closed his eyes as he said, "Beckett, I'm trying to be noble here."

"Hey, you're the one who brought up sleeping with the shirt, buster. But you know..." she started thoughtfully, "tonight may be out, but there's still a few days before you leave, right?" The suggestion was crystal clear.

He took a deep breath. "Kate, I already said you could stay with me tonight. But you really have to stop talking like that. Remember our conversation right before Alexis came in? I'm trying to be noble, yeah, but I'm still human. Let's just see how the next few days go, okay?"

She smiled, but she knew he was right. "Sorry, Castle."

"Sure you are," he said sarcastically, but with more joking sarcasm than what he'd used earlier.

"Really. I'll be good now. Promise. Should we try to get some sleep now? Remember, I'm on pancake duty tomorrow." She pulled her foot away from him and after pulling down the blankets, crawled inside.

They laid on opposite sides of the bed for several minutes, nowhere near each other. But then Kate turned on her side, facing the man on the other side. And after a few minutes, he turned to his side, facing her. They still weren't any closer, but they could see each other in the muted light.

"Thanks for letting me stay. Here," she told him softly, meaning there with him.

"Thanks for staying. For _choosing_ to stay," he told her back. His carefully chosen words told her that he recognized and valued that she could have run anytime during their fight, but she didn't. And right now, that meant a lot to him.

And by mutual decision, their hands met in the middle of the bed, and one held onto the other. And they fell asleep like that, hands clasped, that small connection meaning so much more now than just the mere linking of hands.

* * *

><p><em><strong>I had a little bit of a lot of different things in there. Some disbelief, a little bit of lingering mistrust, some actions rather than words, and then a little bit of banter, hopefully getting things back on track again. Like I said, hope it was okay. <strong>_

_**In the pre-story a/n, I was referring to Castle testing her. Bad thing to do, relationship-wise. But sometimes, we just can't help it. When we're hurt and our trust has been damaged, we have to know. Like I said, they're imperfect, and they're human. And she stepped up, and I hope she gave him a little more proof, by not freaking out about the 'old and gray' comment and again then with Alexis, that she's more committed now, and isn't looking to run away. Someone commented after the last chapter that she'd only given him words and verbal promises that she could break anytime. I knew that, so I gave her a little more of a chance to prove herself to him in this chapter. There's still a ways to go, but I hope this was on the right track.**_

_**Several of you sent some great smoke signals after the last chapter, so if you have any more to send my way about this chapter, I'll definitely try to read them. And reviews would be very cool too, especially for motivation to get another chapter published this week yet. Or two? Do you think I could do two? **_


	20. Chapter 20

_**I want to thank all of those wonderful people who left me reviews for the last chapter, and especially those who really went out of their way to leave me some detailed comments about what they liked/felt about the chapter: I'm Widget, Ariel119, MyNameIsJeffNImLost, docvap, Deb838, craz4castle, MarkC, Tazman10, gmay, Amybf19, theputz913, ebfiddler, Imhereforthestory, itsourinsidejoke and centava. I appreciate you all, and as you can see from this update, I'm working on that 'two chapters this week' thing that so many of you told me I could totally handle. **_

_**And to everyone who has told me, over the last couple of chapters, that the fight was realistic and that they were glad that I'm not letting them hop into bed right away, thank you. Our dynamic duo may know what they want (or sort of know what they want), but when it comes time to actually acknowledging those feelings out loud, it gets harder for them. They guard their hearts. They make mistakes. And that's what I'm trying to do here.**_

_**This chapter did not go AT ALL like I intended for it to go. I also didn't cover as much time as I'd hoped. But I hope you all like it anyway.**_

_**Disclaimer: yeah...you know.**_

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><p>The pancakes were as much of a hit that next morning as they'd been in the Hamptons. Kate, being the early riser that she was, was the first one out into the kitchen. She left Castle's room, and left him sleeping peacefully, but of course had to first extricate herself from his arm, which had somehow crept around her in the middle of the night. It was much the same as what had happened in the Hamptons during that first night that they were forced to share a bed because of the blizzard; when they consciously stayed apart, but still unconsciously gravitated together. He slept on after she woke up, and for a while, she just stayed there, snuggled into him, enjoying the feeling of his arm holding her close. She felt warm, contented. When she woke up that way, she realized that she'd actually missed waking up like that since they'd been back from the Hamptons. And now, after the night before when she'd experienced a very different type of Castle, one who actually tried to order her away, she was even more grateful for the chance to experience that warm feeling of being snuggled against him once again.<p>

Even with that wonderful feeling, she didn't want him to regret it when he awoke. It was obvious that he very purposely didn't get close to her the night before, except for the hand holding, so she suspected that he might not be terribly keen to find himself essentially wrapped around her this morning. So despite the fact that she wouldn't have minded staying there, with him wrapped around her, until he also woke up, she decided it would probably be better if she just eased out of the bed and went to the kitchen to see about fulfilling that pancake promise.

From living there for a few weeks, she knew where pretty much everything was. And she found what she needed; no trips to the corner grocery store were needed, evidently. So she set to work, and sometime during the second batch of pancakes to come off the griddle, Alexis wandered into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. "You're up already?" the girl asked while trying to stifle a yawn. "Where's dad?"

"I left him sleeping." Kate realized belatedly that she'd admitted to sleeping in the same room, same bed as Castle, which was something she'd always tried to avoid before in front of Alexis. But one look at the girl convinced her that she needn't have given it a second thought; Alexis merely nodded and said, "He'll probably sleep in for a while. Pancakes done?" And she yawned again.

"Sure. The first batch is done...help yourself. But I think the strawberry syrup is getting low."

When Kate sat down to eat a couple, she broached the subject of the tour with Alexis, who now seemed a bit more awake. "So your dad told me about his book tour." She didn't say anything else, but just waited for Alexis' thoughts.

The girl's eyes flew up. "He told you finally? Good."

"Yeah, he did. Finally." She gave a little eyeroll. Even though she understood better why he waited to tell her, she couldn't help agreeing with Alexis' in that the girl obviously thought her father should have spilled the beans sooner. "Anyway, he asked me if I'd check in with you when he's gone, so I just wanted to tell you that if you need anything, let me know. I'm not a parent, but hopefully I can muddle through it if you need help with anything. Really."

"Okay. And thanks. It'll be a little quiet at first without him here, but I'll get used to it. And I'm going to fly out and visit him a couple of times...did he tell you that?"

"Yeah. That'll be nice for you both." Alexis nodded and then all was silent for a moment as Kate put more syrup on her plate.

"Are you going to go see him?" Alexis asked suddenly, breaking the silence. "While he's on the tour, I mean?"

Kate was glad she wasn't drinking coffee right then, because she was sure she would have spit it out. "I...uh..."

"You should," the girl continued. "I mean, he's going to some nice places, and he'll get lonely and bored. You know dad. And it could be a nice getaway for you guys." She took another bite of her pancakes, while Kate was trying to process the fact that this teenager was telling her that she should shack up with the girl's father while on a business trip.

"But he'll be...doing things. Book...stuff." God, when did her reasons, and her rationale get so...lame-sounding?

"Sometimes, but not _all_ the time."

"Well, I...I have my job," she managed to say. And truthfully, it was a valid concern. She had on-days and off-days, but they varied, even when she was off she might still be on-call, there was paperwork, and murderers just somehow didn't nicely adhere to a timetable of when you were on shift or not.

Alexis crinkled her face. "Yeah...that's right. Sorry...forgot about that. Well, keep it in mind if you can a get a little time off."

They chatted for a while after that, thankfully _not_ about the book tour, and both finished their pancakes before Castle made his appearance. Kate figured she'd waited long enough, and she was starting to mix the chocolate chips into the remaining batter when Castle came out, rubbing his eyes and looking bleary much like his daughter had earlier. He gave Kate a big sleepy smile when he saw her. But he woke up really fast when he stopped in front of Kate, and it was obvious that the events of the night before-namely their fight-had come back to him. All of a sudden, he didn't know how to behave toward her this morning. Of course, he had no memory of being wrapped around her, holding her through the night. But Kate took the decision out of his hands when she stepped over to him and put a hand tenderly on his cheek. "Still not quite awake, are you, Castle?" Then she leaned in and touched her lips to his in a good morning kiss. "Good morning, anyway." And even with his bleary brain, it didn't escape him that once again, his daughter was sitting _right there_, and Kate had initiated the affection. Huh.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Pancakes had been made and plates had been washed. The teenager had retired to her room to shower and get ready for her skating outing with her friends. That left a detective and a writer, sitting in a kitchen, drinking some coffee.

"Thanks for making the pancakes," Rick said.

"I told Alexis I would," Kate responded.

"Yeah...well, thanks."

"You're welcome."

That was the extent of that conversation, if it could even be called that. Both looked into their coffee cups, not really knowing what to say to each other. She wanted to swivel his chair around toward her, straddle his lap and kiss him senseless, but he didn't know that. He wanted to grab her and run his hands under that loose top she was wearing and nibble on her neck, but she didn't know that. And neither one of them was talking. About that, anyway.

"Coffee's good," Kate offered.

"Good blend. Glad you like it."

And that was the end of that conversation.

There was another few minutes of silence. The distant sound of water running through pipes could be heard, and they figured that Alexis had turned on her shower. But still, neither one did anything.

It seemed, now, that it was Rick's turn to start a pseudo-conversation. "Weather's supposed to be pretty good today."

"For winter, anyway."

"Yeah."

And that was the end of that conversation.

There was another time of silence, during which each of them wondered what to talk about next, or if they should just...retreat somewhere, Rick to his own shower, or Kate to the living room, or even to her own home. But neither wanted to do that, although at the same time, neither one really knew what to do about this conversation stalemate.

But finally, Kate slapped her hand on the counter and looked at Castle, giving him a glare. "This is stupid. Really, really stupid."

His gaze shifted over to her. "Coffee is stupid?"

She turns toward him and levels a glare his way. "You _know_ what I'm talking about. This. Us. Talking like we're strangers. Like we haven't spent _hours_ talking to each other, countless times. It's stupid."

His gaze flitted back down to his coffee cup. "Yeah, I suppose it is."

"Castle, we have to get over this."

"I know. It seemed like it was better last night."

"I thought it would be better this morning, considering the way you-" And then she realized that she'd said too much, when his eyes narrowed and assessed her.

"Considering the way I _what_?"

She huffed out a sigh. Busted. "Considering the way you were wrapped around me when I slept. You were like a cocoon around me. Not sure when it happened, but I woke up sometime in the middle of the night and we were like that, and we were still like that this morning."

"I was? We were?" he asked, surprised, his face an open book of confusion. He just remembered that he'd slept very peacefully, very soundly, which had surprised him given the heavy argument and discussion that they'd had. He'd expected to have his mind spinning, replaying everything. And then another thought occurred to him. "And you're...uh...okay with that? I mean, the last time, when you were here and I crawled in..."

She remembered. And right now, that seemed so long ago, when she was so worried about Alexis seeing them together, in a bedroom. And at his question, she found that she really _was_ okay with that. Not just the cuddling, because she was pretty much always okay with _that_, but the 'same bedroom' aspect of it. And now, she wondered why she'd even bothered to worry before. Alexis hadn't had a problem with it last night, and obviously hadn't given it a second thought this morning.

"Yeah, I know. And I was kind of...uh...bold, I guess, in that respect last night, when she was talking to us in your bedroom. And then this morning, she asked where you were and I mentioned that I left you sleeping, and she didn't bat an eyelash. She just yawned. I guess I realized that she's not fazed by it, not as much as I thought she'd be. And we didn't do anything anyway. So...yeah. I'm okay with it."

He stared at her for several moments. "Seriously?" he asked, his head cocking to one side like he did when he was trying to solve a puzzle.

She rolled her eyes, enjoying his disbelief, and finding that, (once again) surprisingly, she was almost enjoying the fact that she didn't have to be 'on guard' about PDAs in front of Alexis. "Seriously. I _was_ okay with it last night. And I _would be_ okay with it if it were to happen...again. Before you leave. That and actually, uh, more." She raised her eyebrow at the end of the last, breathy word, leaving no doubt as to the intention behind her statement.

Her meaning was clear. If it hadn't been clear last night, it certainly would be obvious right now. But he decided to mess with this new, relaxed, in-touch-with-her-feelings Beckett a little bit. "Ah, I get it." He nodded knowingly. "Your apartment is drafty."

She stared at him, wondering. He saw the change in her eyes, from coy to confused. "Castle, uh...huh? What does the air circulation in my apartment have to do with us sleeping together? And doing, you know, a lot more than sleeping?"

"Beckett! I'm shocked!" he said, feigning surprise. "_I_ was simply talking about how your apartment must obviously be drafty or you wouldn't be so eager to make use of my body heat in the nighttime hours." His overinflated air of innocence and the new twinkle in his eye clued her in to his attempt at humor.

She put her hands on her hips as she glared at him, and then she reached out to whack him on his shoulder. "That's lame, Castle."

He rubbed his shoulder and shrugged. "I couldn't resist. I mean, come on, Kate...Miss I-want-to-go-slowly all of a sudden apparently has sex on the brain."

"I do not!"

"Do too! How many times have you essentially propositioned me in the last twelve hours?"

"I have not! And even if I had, are you really sitting here _complaining_ about it? I never thought I'd see the day when Richard Castle would _complain_ when a woman wanted to sleep with him!"

"Well, if you didn't proposition me, then I certainly can't be complaining about it, now can I?"

"Fine, Castle." She rolled her eyes. "Do you want to sleep with me?" Then she said under her breath, "I cannot be_lieve_ I'm doing this!"

He ignored her self-talk. "Why, I would like that very much, Beckett."

"Well, Castle, should we just go back to your room and have at it then?" she asked somewhat sarcastically.

"Wow...way to be romantic, Beckett," he told her with comical censure.

"I...you... Ugh!" she said, throwing up her hands in the air in frustration. She started to turn to walk away. "Listen, if you don't want me-"

And then she barely had time to register the grip on her wrist that suddenly pulled her around so she was facing him again. The unexpected motion stopped when she found herself in the vee of his legs as he sat on the stool at the kitchen counter. He put his arms somewhat loosely around her back; loose enough that he didn't crush her, but still tight enough that she knew she wasn't going anywhere.

When she caught sight of the look in his eyes, the protest that she'd had ready died before her mouth could voice it. He raised one of his hands and ran his fingertips over her cheek, and then put his fingers in her hair to urge her mouth toward his. Their lips met in a soft kiss, and her first thought was '_finally_'. It hadn't been so long since they'd kissed; she'd just kissed him that morning when he'd come in to the kitchen for breakfast. But it seemed like forever since _he_ had kissed _her_, like that. It was really only last night, but they'd had that fight. They'd ended up sleeping in the same bed, but still, they'd just held hands. And she realized as he kissed her that she'd missed his kiss during and after that fight. And now, this meant so much more, because it came _from_ him; he initiated it, rather than just responding to it. And that made a world of difference.

All of a sudden, she was feeling what she could have lost, if things had gone differently last night. And she hugged him just a little more tightly.

He pulled away and looked at her again, and then, needing to just hold onto him after her realization, she buried her face in his shoulder and wrapped her arms around him. He used his arms to clutch her more tightly too. Then he murmured lowly, "I _do_ want you. Please don't let there be a doubt about that."

"Well, then why..."

She felt him take a deep breath. "You heard me last night. I don't want our fight hanging over this memory. I want it to be right." He pulled back, pulled her away from him just enough so they could see each others faces. "Kate, we couldn't even talk to each other this morning. That isn't 'right'...there's nothing 'right' about that. That's wrong, and it's uncomfortable, and it's just...not good. And what is this...you? I know you wanted to go slowly, and I could understand that. Damn, but it's hard sometimes," he smiled reassuringly at her, "but past that, I can see your point. For us, we need to do this right. And that's slowly."

He paused and pressed his lips to her forehead, just holding them there until he spoke again. "But now, last night, just now...all of a sudden it's like you're on this mission that we have to bang each other until we're blue, until I leave for my tour."

She grimaced at his crude choice of words, and he caught the expression on her face. "Yeah, I know. But that's what it seems like."

She was starting to see his point, and she did have to admire his restraint, his single-minded preoccupation to do this the right way, so no shadows were hanging over them. "But if you leave..."

"Then I leave. And then I'll come back. And in the meantime, we keep rebuilding whatever needs to be rebuilt. You asked me last night if we're good. And you know we're not yet, not totally. But we'll get there." He touched his lips to her forehead again briefly. "Slowly."

She looked at him, trying to figure him out. This wasn't the same Castle. Well, hell, last night wasn't the same Castle either. How many personalities did this man have? "How can you just sit there so calmly and say all of this?"

He looked up in the air, pondering her question. "Honestly, I don't know. If I want something, I generally just get it. Buy it. Take it. Whatever. But with you...you're not like that. That won't work. And do you know what? I don't think I want it to work like that. And I've been patient this long, haven't I? You know, I want to enjoy the ride. I don't want to take the supersonic jet over the Grand Canyon; I want to take a hot air balloon ride and experience all of it, piece by little piece, slowly. Absorb the experience and the beauty. It's better that way, you know?"

She nodded. "Don't tell me one of your tour stops is the Grand Canyon?"

"No. Vegas is about as close as I get."

She nodded, wanting to make a quip about showgirls (and a threat about him with the showgirls), but decided that she'd save it for another time. "So since you evidently have this grand plan, of not...what did you say? Bang each other until we're blue? We'll have to work on your ephemisms, Castle," she told him, shaking her head. "Anyway, since you have the grand plan and do _not_ want me to proposition you anymore, what, exactly, do you propose we do?"

"Any one of a number of things, my dear," he said confidently.

She nodded her head slowly, as if trying to figure out what he could possibly mean. Knowing him, it could be anything.

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><p><em><strong>The next chapter or two will move along more...promise.<strong>_

_**On another somewhat strange note: from time to time, I get a random story alert for 'Blizzard' (I actually got two of them just today). Now, I'm flattered that someone likes the story enough to alert it. But that story is complete, so there won't be any new chapters for that one, so the alert won't actually do anything. So why do people story alert a completed story? Or am I missing something?**_

_**I do have a twitter account; my user name is xxGoogiexx. I always used to tweet when I'd updated a chapter of one of my stories, but lately I haven't done that b/c it seemed as though it didn't really matter. So if you DO like to see a tweet when I have a story update, could you PM me or something? Otherwise I just may permanently discontinue that method of communication.**_

_**Blue Butterfly...I liked it. It was a good, fun episode. That said, with the way things have been going on the shipper front, I had no hopes of there being a blatant C/B shipper moment. And of course, I was right. But with hope comes expectation, and then letdown when you don't get what you're expecting. Of the reviews, the one that I like the best was the Luciana Mangas review (TV Overmind?) She addresses the situation really well. I'd love it if something happened in the two-parter coming up, but I'm not holding my breath. A year ago, I hated how Countdown ended, and I hated it largely b/c I had it in my mind that something good would happen on the C/B front. And then in strolls the hunky boyfriend. Well, at least we don't have a boyfriend this season, do we?**_

_**And lastly...could you let me know what you think of the chapter? I do appreciate your comments. Several hundred people have alerted this fic; yes, I want to hear from you (or at least a lot of you)! ;)**_


	21. Chapter 21

_**Here it is...the second of the somewhat promised installments this week. It's really very short, so I hope you'll forgive me. I had a second part of this chapter, but after I had a lot of it written, I decided to push that part ahead one chapter because I thought this section would be nice as a light stand-alone chapter of its own. So, the next one should be up in the next 24-48 hours, hopefully...unless I run into writer's block for what's going to happen in the latest part of the chapter.. **_

_**I just have to remark on the truly wonderful people who have left me reviews lately. I named a lot of you in the last chapter, and I believe there are even some different ones for this chapter. What absolutely blows me away is the fact that you all of you-and I think I can say all, as in ALL of the reviews and even a few PMs for this chapter-left such wonderfully detailed comments for me, saying what you like and even some things that you're wishing for. Please know that this is absolute GOLD to me and again, I'm amazed and I feel so privileged that you chose to read my story and take the time to leave such lovely comments. I wish I could write to all of you, and I do try to respond back from time to time, but if you don't hear from me, please know that I still appreciate you.**_

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><p><em>Previously: Kate spent the night with Rick, in his bed, but they just slept even though she did essentially proposition him. She realized that Alexis was comfortable with their relationship, and it made her worry a lot less about impressions in front of Rick's daughter. After breakfast, they found that they were still awkward around each other, and Kate alluded to the fact that they should try a more intimate relationship before he left on his tour. He said no; that he wanted to take it slowly and make it right, rather than rush it just because he was going to be gone. So she asked him what he planned for them to do, other than what he'd just said no to, and he said he had some ideas. <em>

_We pick up this chapter with one of those ideas._

She didn't know what he had planned, but she would never have picked that.

It was so cheesy, and it was so Castle.

He took her to the top of the Empire State Building.

"I know we're way past Valentine's day, but I knew crashing Alexis' ice skating party, with your ankle the way it is, would be out, so here we are."

"Well, thank you for not trying to stress my anterior talofibular ligament, and I can say that my calcaneo-fibular ligament would definitely not be very happy with you if you tried to make me stand on skinny pieces of metal." She smiled at him sweetly.

His eyes widened as she rattled off the medical jargon. "Wow, Beckett...that was, uh...wait a minute." His eyes went from wide to narrow in an instant, as his face gazed at her knowingly. "You had an appointment with Colin the magic muscle man today, didn't you?" Her therapist was no longer just 'Colin' to him; he was now always 'Colin the magic muscle man.'

She nodded. "You're quick, Castle. Yes, I did see Colin today, as a matter of fact. He had a cancellation and since my next appointment wasn't until next week, he called to see if I wanted the opening any sooner. Ryan dropped me off when you were at that meeting with Paula. And by the way, you know in my case, he's not really a magic _muscle_ man. He's my magic _ligament_ man."

"Well, tough. I like my alliteration, thank you very much," he huffed. "So he's going to keep being the 'magic muscle man'.

"So anyway, the Empire State Building? You're really big on the touristy things lately, aren't you? I mean, first the carriage ride, now the Empire State Building."

"I wouldn't necessarily say that. The carriage ride was weeks ago," he observed.

She shivered in the wintery air. "At least the carriage ride had blankets! Geez, Castle! It's cold up here!"

"It's not my fault you dress for fashion rather than warmth," he said dryly.

"Oh, shut up." Then, turning to look at him, her arms still hugging herself for warmth in the brisk wind found 86 stories above street level. She gave him an apprising look, her eyes sweeping from his face down to his feet, and then back up again. And without a word, she took a small step toward him and began to unbutton his pea coat, sneaking small glances toward his face as she undid each button.

She had to stifle a grin to keep the coy look on her face when she saw the confusion on his as he realized what she was doing.

After the first button, the only thing that was going through his mind was that he was being undressed by Kate Beckett. In public. In the winter. On the top of the Empire State Building. Granted, it was only his coat. But when Kate Beckett looked at you like that as she was undoing the buttons on a garment that you were wearing-any garment-it didn't really matter what type of garment it was. It still evoked images and feelings that were best not pictured or felt in public. Eighty six stories above the ground. In the winter.

Several coy looks later, she had his whole coat unbuttoned. And then she wasted no time in stepping flush up against him and running her arms around his torso, under his coat. "Oh, that's better. You do give off a lot of heat, Castle."

He had no choice but to put his arms around her, wrapping the open flaps of his coat around her too, as it dawned on him what she'd really been after. Warmth. "All of that...you did that just so you could get inside my coat?" He sounded incredulous, and oddly disappointed too.

"Of course, Castle. What did you _think_ I was doing?" She raised an eyebrow at him before kissing his jaw lightly. "And since you made that crack about my jacket, I thought it was only fair that you'd let me share yours."

He glanced out over the lights of the city, and then down at the woman wrapped around him. And the _feeling_ of that woman wrapped around him like that...wonderful. He tried to freeze the moment in his mind, so he could take it out and savor it when he was on his tour and she wasn't there. And this, all because she was cold. If this was the result, he'd have to get her cold more often. "I think I changed my mind, Beckett."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I rather like your fashion sense now. Especially your choice of winter outerwear," he told her with a sly grin. She gave the tiniest eyeroll, but then grinned back at him before she buried her head in his shoulder and hugged him even closer.

_**Like I said, it was short. I actually had this done days ago, but was trying to make it longer before I scrapped that idea. So the next chapter is partially written. However, reviews and comments would still be very much appreciated.**_


	22. Chapter 22

_**Okay...it's been a little more than 48 hours, so I hope you'll forgive me.**_

_**Glad you all seemed to like Chapter 21. Thanks for the great comments! I enjoyed writing it; it was fun.**_

_**For a refresher, you might want to go back and read the last half-page or so of Chapter 20.**_

_**Just one more reminder that this AU was started a year ago, during season 3. So aside from the obvious deviation that I claimed where there are no other SOs in the picture, we're still 'there', where Montgomery is still alive and while our dynamic duo obviously have feelings for each other, we still don't know the exact extent of those feelings b/c that S3 finale never happened. And they know they have some feelings, but even then, they're not entirely sure what those feelings are, nor are they ready to admit very much. Still with me?**_

_**Disclaimer: The usual.**_

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><p>"You're really going to be gone? I mean, seriously? This isn't some prank or something?"<p>

"Sorry, Ryan. No prank. I'm really going to be gone."

Kate sat back in her chair, trying to look moderately surprised, even though she'd known about it, and had ruminated about it, for the better part of a few days now. Ryan had a look of disbelief on his face, and she forced herself to keep an impassive face and not say anything, because Ryan's gaze kept flitting over to her as he talked to Castle, as if to gauge her reaction.

"Well, are you going to come back? I mean, not like last summer, where you left and then we had to arrest you for murder to get you to come back."

Castle clamped a hand on Ryan's shoulder. "Never fear, I _will_ be back. If for no other reason than I don't want to give you a reason to almost shoot me again."

Ryan almost winced, being reminded of the stray shot he'd fired when they'd first arrested Castle for murder in that dead girl's apartment. He looked from Castle, to Beckett, to Esposito, who just shrugged. Grabbing a file off the desk, he stammered, "Uh, yeah, well, uh...don't be a stranger. Uh, I'm going to just...go file something." Kate tried to stifle a smile as she saw how the mention of that incident still obviously touched a raw nerve with Ryan.

"Beckett, you know about this?" asked Esposito pointedly.

"Yeah, Castle told me earlier," she said, trying for nonchalant in her tone. She wasn't lying; she just neglected to say how much earlier he'd told her.

Esposito stood there with his arms folded, assessing them with the icy glare as only he could do. "You okay with that?" He looked like he was ready to go 'big brother' on Castle if she just said the word.

She rolled her eyes. God, Esposito was acting like she couldn't live without him, and he didn't even know they were dating. And if she knew Castle, his ego would probably blow up if he thought that the precinct couldn't function without him. "Why wouldn't I be okay with it, Esposito? I mean, the guy does have a career, right? Aside from following us around, that is."

"You, Beckett. He follows _you_ around. And yeah, he has a career, but I thought you got...sort of, you know, used to him." He shrugged.

"Well, yeah, he has been around for quite a while now, but I think we all know how to function without him." She smiled and nodded, like she was a teacher talking to her class, telling them that they all knew how to behave, but trying to hide how weird this sounded.

"Hey, you know, I _am_ right here," Rick said, obviously miffed to have them talking about him yet not really including him in the conversation.

"Yeah, Castle, we know," Beckett quipped. "We're just practicing for when you're not here." She picked up some paperwork and busied herself, letting her words sink in but not really looking up at him.

But, astute observer that he was, he caught sight of her very slight smirk as she looked at her paperwork. "Oh, very funny, Beckett. You'll miss me when I'm gone. You just mark my words," he said, sitting down

and wagging finger at her. She glanced up at him again and lightly rolled her eyes.

A few minutes went by, during which Esposito went back to his desk. She felt a presence lean closer to her, and she could smell the slightly stronger scent of his aftershave now that he was more in her personal space. Always conscious of the bustling bullpen, she very deliberately put down her pen and slowly rose her eyes to his. "Yes?"

"You _will_ miss me when I'm gone, right?" His voice was low, but there was an earnestness, and almost a worry in his eyes.

She tried to shrug it off. "Of course, Castle. I'll have to get my own coffee when you're gone."

Although she tried to keep it light in what would be a large room of very interested onlookers if things got more 'personal', she realized as soon as the words were out of her mouth that she'd kept it a little too light. Some of the sparkle left his eyes. He leaned back in his chair, uttering a bland, "okay," as she could see the shutters go down over his eyes. It didn't happen very often, but she was now looking at insecure Rick, courtesy of her flip answer that implied a highly impersonal, almost user-type of relationship on her end. It was the retreat mode mood that he adopted when he felt like he wasn't needed or wanted; when he should just bow out. She hadn't seen it much, but now that she'd gotten to know him better, she could pinpoint it for what it was, rather than unknowingly brushing it off like she probably did in the past.

She knew him well now. In that instant, in amazed her again how quickly she could read him, and even moreso, it amazed her how quickly she now took action to try to rectify the situation. Because that wasn't what she meant at all, and he needed to know it. Now.

She stood up just as quickly, obviously surprising him with her sudden movement, as his head whipped up to follow her as she now stood over him. "Come on, Castle. Breakroom. I need a new cup of coffee."

But he wasn't the only one surprised, because she never would have predicted his response of crossing an ankle over his knee and taking out his phone, saying, "No thanks, Beckett. I'm fine. I'll just stay here and check my stocks on my phone."

He wasn't following her?

His excuse was almost laughable, if she wouldn't have been so dumbfounded by him refusing her. He used his phone for a lot of things, and while she was sure he had an extensive stock portfolio, she'd never seen him check it on his phone. Playing Angry Birds always won out over checking stocks. But she saw it for what it was; that retreat mode. He wasn't leaving physically, but mentally he was.

And she knew she needed to make this right. "Castle...I...come on." She paused a moment and looked around. "Please?"

It was the plea at the end that did him in. That, and her eyes boring into his when she said it. Silently, he got up and walked with her into the break room.

A couple of detectives from another team were in there, so they still weren't free to talk. They got their coffee, and it was more than a long five minutes later when the other two detectives made their way back to their desk, laughing at the unbelievable antics of a suspect. And when they were alone and seated at a table, Kate wasted no time in telling Castle, "Look, before anyone else comes in...I..." She looked down at her hands, wondering how to phrase it. It was easy to say in the privacy of her own head. She found that it wasn't so easy to say out loud.

"No matter what I said to Esposito, or what I said to you...out there," she says, looking down again, before she got her courage back and blurted it out. "I'll miss you, okay? It won't be the same without you around, Rick. And it's more than just coffee."

He gazed at her, in silence, for several seconds. He'd hated that feeling that had settled in his gut when she implied that she'd only miss him because he wasn't there to bring her coffee. On some level, he knew she was joking. But it just hit him wrong right then. Maybe it was the conversation before that, trying to keep the whole thing light with the guys, and her kind of talking like he didn't really do much except follow her around. Like a mascot. And then it was when they ignored him for a bit, like he was already gone, and it-he-wasn't any more than a remote blip on their radar. He wasn't prepared for it to hit him, to bug him like it was. He was used to their ribbing, and he was generally okay with it because he knew he did help. And it really didn't bug him all that much right then, but then Kate made the comment about the coffee, and _that_ was what felt kind of like a punch in the gut.

And when she all but ordered him into the breakroom-for a cup of coffee, no less!-he said no. With the recent words about 'following' and 'coffee' running through his mind, no way did he want to do anything involving those two words.

"_You_ are more than just coffee to me, okay?" she said, when he still hadn't responded to her.

"Yeah," he said noncommittally. She didn't really know what that 'yeah' meant.

"I couldn't say anything...more...in front of the guys, you know? Or here."

His eyes were still shuttered though, and it reminded her of Saturday night. She didn't want to go back there, figuratively speaking, not when they had made some progress toward rebuilding the trust. Her mind whirled, and she had an idea then. "Castle? Will you trust me for a few minutes...come with me?" Then, because it had worked last time, she added, "Please?"

He gave her a wary look, like he was wondering what was going on, but he nodded.

She got up, grabbing the coffee cup in front of her out of habit, and walked to the door or the breakroom. Seeing Ryan in the hall, she said, "Hey, Ryan? Castle had an idea about that Talerico case I've been looking into again. We're going to go down to check the original police report. Call me if you need us for anything." Ryan nodded at her and walked into the bullpen, while Kate started walking purposefully toward the elevator, leaving Castle not much choice but to go along with her.

Safely ensconsed inside the elevator, Rick asked her, "What's going on, Kate? I did not just have some brainstorm about the Talerico case. And what _is_ the Talerico case anyway? And why do we have to go check a police report for an idea that I didn't have about a case that I know nothing about?"

"Just a minute. Be patient." She would have added something about knowing that was hard for him, but she didn't really want to be flip and have it backfire on her again.

The elevator doors opened and she walked down to the file room. Opening the door, she ushered him inside. Looking around, she could see it was deserted, so she grabbed his hand and walked to the back, and over a few rows away from the door, and also out of reach of the cameras that captured images from the front of the room only. When she felt they were tucked away sufficiently, she turned around, grabbed his face with her hands, and sealed her lips to his as she pushed him against the metal shelving units.

She thought for sure he would be suspecting what she was up to by now, but she could tell from the slackened lips under her own that she'd definitely surprised him. Good. She worked her mouth over his, starting with some teasing nips interspersed with full kisses, both gentle and forceful at the same time. She took advantage of the initial slackening of his lips and she used her tongue to tease them ever so briefly, like she was challenging them to wake up. She let go of his head with one of her hands, and used that arm to wrap around his neck to anchor herself in place. She wasn't letting him go, not until he understood.

His lips did wake up after her teasing assault, and they definitely figured out what to do. In some part of her brain, she registered his arm coming around her back, holding her in place against him as much as she was holding them together with her arms. As they kissed, the hand of hers that remained on his face was lightly caressing the very beginnings of stubble on his jaw. Oh, the man could kiss! Even when he was surprised. She kept kissing him, teasing him, and enjoying every second of it, until she became aware of the feeling of the metal shelving unit against the arm she had around Rick's neck as she pressed against him. The precinct...yeah, they were in the precinct. But she kept kissing him, just a little bit more, because it felt too good and because she had a point to prove to him.

She broke away when she was certain that she'd made her point. "I'll _miss_ you, Castle. Okay?"

"Uh...yeah. Okay. Uh, Beckett? What was that just now? I mean," he said, taking a deep breath and trying to get his equilibrium back, "I certainly liked it, but...yeah. Whoa."

She took a calming breath of her own, and felt a slight smile curl the edges of her mouth. "Castle, you honestly don't mean to tell me you don't know what that was? I mean, you do have a kid and everything...I thought you knew about those types of things..." she joked.

He gave her a wry smile. "Funny, Beckett."

"Okay, Castle. But it's just what I said. I'll...miss you when you leave. When you're gone. And not just because of the coffee."

"So you said earlier."

"But you didn't believe me." She could see by his eyes that she'd hit the nail on the head.

His hands left her and came up to his head in an agitated motion as he ran his fingers through his hair. "It just hit me wrong at the time. I'm worrying about this tour. I fly out tomorrow, Kate! And yeah...it just hit me wrong," he repeated. "You're a lot more than a muse to me, and I'd hoped I was becoming more than coffee, or whatever, to you."

"So when I just said I'd miss your coffee..."

"Yeah." He nodded.

"Well, _that_," she said, obviously referring to their little interlude, "was more than coffee, and so are you, and I wanted to show you that. Especially because I typically don't normally lie to Ryan about cases or drag unsuspecting authors into the records room to have a brief romantic interlude with them."

"I don't really want to condone the lying to Ryan thing, but about the other...might I just say, anytime. If you want to pull _this_ author into the records room, please feel free."

"But now I can't," she said haltingly, like she was breaking bad news to him.

"You can't...why not?"

"Because after that, you'd be anything but unsuspecting," she told him, seriously at first, but then letting her mouth curve in a little smile again.

He smiled for a moment, but then his face got serious again. So serious that she asked him simply, "What?"

"I...uh...well," he stammered.

"What is it, Castle? Spit it out. We have to get back upstairs and let Ryan know that your idea about the Talerico case didn't pan out."

"I...well, I'm going away tomorrow," he began slowly.

"Newsflash there," she told him sarcastically.

"And I...that kiss...and you...so what are you doing tonight?" He started slowly, but then he all but spit out the last sentence.

She looked at him oddly, surprised by his question. "Tonight? I thought I was coming over to spend some time with you and Alexis."

"No. I mean, yes. But...what about _tonight_ tonight? I mean, later."

She looked at him, noting how uncomfortable he seemed, and thought about what he was saying, and it dawned on her what he was talking about. At first, she thought she must be wrong. After their fight, he said no to 'furthering' their relationship right then. She wasn't very subtle the next morning either, but he still turned her down. She sort of understood, and part of her did respect him more for it, especially when she was the one who initially said they should go slowly, and he was working hard to uphold that for her when she might have done otherwise. And in the few days since that morning, they'd spent a lot of time together, but he just seemed to be more than content to touch her, to be by her, to have some sort of random contact, like a hand held in his, or playing with her hair while they watched a movie. Of course, there were a few times when things could have gotten out of hand, like just now, but Rick had always held himself in check. So that's why what he seemed to be saying now just didn't mesh with what she'd come to expect over the last couple of days. But she had to find out for sure, and the only way was to just outright ask. "Castle, are...are _you_ propositioning _me_ now? What happened to perfect and a couple of days spent horizontally and the Grand Canyon?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, but continued to look slightly uncomfortable, which she secretly found just a little bit cute. "I just...well, with all of this talk about missing me and me missing you-because I will, you know," he clarified for good measure, "and you hauling me down here now, and then I realized that I'm _really_ leaving tomorrow...so, well, you know..."

"You wanna fly over the Grand Canyon tonight?" she said with a coy look on her face. She didn't really want to voice the words out loud, just in case she still was misunderstanding him.

But she found that she wasn't misunderstanding him at all. And when he spoke, the low deliberate timbre of his voice, combined with the intense look in his eyes, almost made her get goosebumps.

"All of a sudden, I'm finding that I have a sudden, urgent need to see the Grand Canyon. Tonight."

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><p><em><strong>That's it for now. What do you think?<strong>_

_**Have a Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! If you don't have a significant other, or your SO is being a jerk, then you have my permission to go buy yourself some chocolate. Or a nice dinner. Or both. Or just go buy whatever you want. :-) **_


	23. Chapter 23

_**Sorry this took so long. The words just didn't want to flow. I'm writing future chapters in my head, but it's the current ones that are giving me fits.**_

_**Disclaimer: characters belong to others. I just borrow them.**_

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><p><em>Previously: Castle told the boys about his book tour and that he wouldn't be around for a while. He then asked Kate if she would miss him, and she was joking with him about missing his coffee. He took it wrong at the moment, and got melancholy thinking that all that mattered to her was the fact that he brought coffee. She tried to tell him that wasn't the case, but he still didn't believe her so she dragged him down to the records room and proceeded to kiss him senseless to prove to him that she would indeed miss him. Then he asked her what she was doing that night, implying that he'd changed his mind and he'd like them to spend the night together (using the Grand Canyon euphemism).<em>

The talk with the Grand Canyon was them; it was euphemism and to a degree, subtext, at its best, which is what they did. That was frequently how they communicated, and communicate they did; despite the lack of direct words most of the time, they generally got the point across through those euphemisms or subtext. Of course, their communication still left something to be desired, as was obvious given Kate's recent foot-in-mouth gaffes, like what had just happened with the coffee comment. It left her thinking in some latent part of her brain that maybe they should just stick to the euphemisms and subtext and throw out the direct talk, or _she_ should anyway, because the direct talk always seemed to get her in trouble, whereas the non-direct talk seemed to work a lot better.

She tried a form of direct, even with this question, but then it was he who picked up and ran with the euphemism. Because yeah, she thought, the non-direct did work better for them.

But when she heard his statement about his _urgent_ need to see the Grand Canyon, she almost couldn't breathe for a few seconds. It had come down to this, the night before he was to leave.

She and Castle were going to consummate their relationship. Although she hated putting it that way; it sounded so...antiquated.

But that was the only thing that she could think of right then. She was going to spend the night with Rick. And they were definitely going to do more than just sleep.

Probably a_ lot _more.

_Finally. _

And as that thought settled into her brain and became comfortable there, a small shiver ran through her body as the random images of laying in his bed with him and doing all of that non-sleeping flowed through her brain as little imagined snapshots. The images, though, were mixed up with the reality of the man himself standing in front of her, against her, and now as she forced those images away, she realized that the man was now looking at her a little quizzically. But before she could formulate a response to what he'd said, he asked, "Kaaaate?" in a deep voice, drawing out the vowel in her name.

"Hmmm?" was all she could muster.

"I...uh. Whoa." He ran his hands through his hair again as his eyes widened just slightly before he continued. "Are you...tonight...uh..."

Finally, she found her voice. "What's wrong, Castle? You're usually much more eloquent."

"I...uh...God, Kate. I am, yeah. But you don't normally look at me like _that_." He looked like he was still just a little bit in awe.

"Like what, exactly?" she asked, unconsciously licking her lips.

He could only stare at her tongue as it came out of her mouth and wet her lips. And when the tongue disappeared again, his gaze shot up to find her eyes and only then was he able to formulate words again. "You looked...it just seemed like you wanted to eat me alive and have your way with me. Right now. On top of the file cabinets or something."

She couldn't fault his logic or assumption-because her thoughts had indeed gone there-but as soon as he mentioned file cabinets, it snapped her back to attention. They were in the records room! At the precinct! Her head pivoted around, her gaze leaving his face to fall once again on all of the shelving units that held boxes of files, as well as the old, dusty row of file cabinets to which Castle had referred. She stepped back quickly, and ran her hand over her hair. "God, we have to get back to work, Rick!" She started to turn around to leave when she felt a hand on her arm, halting her progress. She turned back around to look at the owner of that arm, who was now staring at her with a different type of look.

"Kate, you...uh, you never gave me your answer. Well, not officially, anyway. And I just want to make sure I'm reading the unofficial answer correctly."

"Answer?"

"Tonight...Grand Canyon?" He stepped just a bit closer. "Care to do a little sightseeing with me?"

Oh, yeah. She now recognized the different type of look; it was uncertainty, once again. The uncertainty had crept back into his features, because she'd never told him with words. He needed words right now.

So she gave them to him. Oh, did she give them to him. Enough words, and just the right words, to have him gulping and staring after her as she sashayed out of the room.

"I'd love to visit the Grand Canyon, Rick. And I trust that you'll make sure that you go quite, uh, deep. Into the canyon, that is."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

He barely caught up to her to catch the elevator back upstairs. The whole ride up, he kept sneaking peeks at her, the expression on his face alternating between incredulous and cocky. She met his gaze a few times, giving him either a raised eyebrow or a sultry smile, and each time she did, his expression flip-flopped back. By the time they reached their floor, he still hadn't said anything, but the myriad of expressions that had crossed his face during the ride could have been used to illustrate some sort of a clinical dissertation on the nuances of facial expression.

When they got out of the elevator, she took a couple of steps ahead of him back toward her desk when she felt his hand on her arm. She stopped and turned back to him. "What?" she asked.

"You mean...uh...really? Seriously?"

She lowered her voice to a low, near-whisper. "You're the one who's been saying no lately, Castle. So maybe I should be asking you that question."

"I...uh...well, yeah. So, you...?" He raised his eyebrow at her suggestively as his words trailed off.

She gave an ever-so-slight nod to her head. "Yes, Castle. So now can we go back to work?"

"Uh, sure," he managed, before she gave him a brief look and then started walking again toward her desk. "Although it's going to be hard after that."

At his words, she whipped her head around to look at him again. "Castle! Not now!"

"What?" he asked innocently before realizing what he said. "Oh." And once he connected the dots, the cocky grin appeared back on his face.

"Just save it for later, okay?" she asked exasperatedly. "And wipe that grin off your face. If the guys see that, there's only one thing they're going to think, and they'll be right." And then when his grin showed no sign of dissipating, she added, "Now, Castle. Grin, gone. Or tonight...poof." She made her hands come together, and then her fngers burst apart like a starburst. "Gone, like the wind."

At once when he realized what she said, the grin dropped off his face. "Good boy," she said quickly, and then turned around to start walking toward her desk again. After a brief moment of 'what just happened here?', he shook himself back to the present and followed her into the bullpen.

And he almost bumped into the back of her when she stopped short, almost gaping at the person who was sitting in Rick's chair by her desk. And they both had the biggest feeling of deja vu. The bad kind of deja vu.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Well, _finally_!" Paula said dramatically as she rose out of the chair, walking the few steps over to Rick and all but ignoring the Detective he was following.

"Paula? What are you doing here?"

"Well, once again, if you ever answered your phone, you might know what I'm doing here."

Kate kept walking to her desk and sat down, having no desire to be in the middle of their conversation. But she had to stifle a grin when she heard Rick say, "I'm preserving my sanity. After that meeting with you and the stuffed shirts, and combined with the fact that I'm going to see an awful lot of you over the next several weeks...yeah, I ignored your calls in favor of preserving my mental health."

"Ha ha. Funny, Rick. Now grab your coat, because we're leaving. You have a plane to catch." And though she was trying not to look like she was paying attention to their conversation, Kate's eyes shot back to them when she heard Paula's order. She was getting a bad feeling about this.

He stared at her. "Paula, I know for a fact that my plane doesn't leave until tomorrow. And I know you have to get to the airport early these days, but not _that_ early. Not an entire day early."

"It won't be early, because our flight is in..." she pulled out her phone to check the time. "...a little over four hours. If you'd answered your phone, you'd know that I just scored a major-allow me to repeat that-a _major_ coup in getting you on AM Miami. Tomorrow morning."

"But the tour doesn't start in Miami. We're going to..." he tried to think of his itinerary. "...Somewhere else. I thought Miami was in a couple of weeks."

"It was, and still is. But they needed a fill-in for tomorrow, so we're bumping up your air time. And this is a _much_ better spot, lots more exposure. You're going to do a celebrity cooking segment with...oh, a certain very popular actress right now." She paused for dramatic effect, looking very proud of herself, and then named the actress.

As she listened to Paula, Kate's mind was spinning. First..._leaving. Tonight. _And then...the image of the actress flitted into her brain, juxtaposed with the memory of when Rick had appeared on Bobby Mann's show with Ellie Monroe. And she knew what had happened with Ellie Monroe. And before she could stop it, the flare of jealousy and dread settled in her belly.

And the next voice Kate heard was Ryan's rather starstruck sounding words as he sidled up to Castle, "Her? And you're doing a _cooking_ segment with _her_? God, Castle, cooking? I bet you can really cook something up with _her_!"

But Ryan had no more to say as he caught Esposito's grim gaze as he shook his head, then said, "Hey, bro, uh...I need you to look at those TPS reports."

Blessedly, Ryan caught on right away, saying, "Oh, yeah...the TPS reports. Yeah." And he stepped away from the impromptu meeting, telling Esposito under his breath, "Really, bro, TPS reports? Office Space?" he asked, referring to the movie that made the concept of the TPS report famous.

"Had to think of something before you put your foot in it any more," Esposito chided.

Meanwhile, even though Ryan had vacated the immediate vicinity, Kate caught the sly grin on Paula's face. However, she could tell that Paula's thoughts were right around where Ryan's thoughts were. And apparently Rick realized it too. "Paula," he hissed with an intense look on his face, "I told you before, there are to be no types of activities such as that scheduled during this tour. I thought I made myself clear." Upon hearing his words, and more importantly, his tone, Kate was finally able to draw in a ragged breath.

"Relax, Rick," Paula told him, uncharacteristically unnerved by the look on his face. "It's a cooking segment with her. On-air only. Nothing else scheduled by me. However, if you want to schedule anything yourself..." she trailed off, the insinuation clear.

"Get this straight, Paula. The only thing I'll be scheduling after my required appearances are Skype calls back home to talk to Alexis and..." He caught himself before he said her name, but his eyes flicked over to Kate ever so briefly. "My mother," he finished, hoping Kate would know that she was definitely a silent inclusion in those calls. "But really, Paula...tonight? Seriously? I was looking forward to one last quiet night at home."

"Suck it up, Rick. You know how these things go. Sometimes the schedule gets changed. It's not like you're a book tour virgin or something." She gave him a pithy look, and he glared back at her. "And the spot on AM Miami with _her_? Too good to pass up, Rick. So I suggest you get your coat so we can get you home to pick up your bags."

"I'm not even finished packing yet!"

"All the more reason to get going." And with that, she started pushing him out of the bullpen, not even acknowledging any of the detectives around her, even the detective that was her client's muse.

But Rick stood his ground. "No. I can't just...leave. I have to...uh...tie things up. I'll meet you downstairs."

"Rick..."

"If you want me on that flight, Paula, you'll give me a couple of minutes now," he told her resolutely.

She threw an exasperated glance at the ceiling before she turned around and stormed out, heels clacking annoyingly on the floor as she walked. "Ten minutes!" she called over her shoulder.

Rick caught sight of Ryan and Esposito, who were trying to look like they hadn't just heard the entire thing. And then, his gaze found Kate, obviously trying to look unaffected by what she'd just heard, but he knew better. She may have had a file open on her desk and she may look to anyone else like she was reading it, but he knew better. He quickly sat down in the chair next to her.

"Kate...I..."

"I heard it all, Castle. Paula doesn't exactly have a meek little voice."

"Yeah, my ears are still ringing. Kate..." He swallowed, aching to touch her but cognizant of the fact that they were in the bullpen in the middle of the day. "I don't want to go now. Tonight..." he trailed off, the regret evident in his voice.

She was still reeling from Paula's appearance too, as well as her orders after she revealed the change in his itinerary. But they both knew that their hastily-made but much-anticipated plans for the evening had just evaporated into thin air. And now it seemed that they wouldn't even have time for a proper goodbye. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she'd envisioned giving him a goodbye kiss like no other when he left, something that would give him a last memory of her and would make him think back to that kiss often in the weeks they would be apart. But now, in the station, with him having less than ten minutes to leave and follow Paula, they wouldn't even be able to have a peck on the cheek.

And now that she was sitting across from him, knowing that she wouldn't see him for almost two months except on a computer screen, the almost physical pain she felt wasn't really due to their forced separation, or because of the fact that she couldn't even kiss him goodbye. It was because she couldn't even touch him now. Because it was hitting her now, and she realized that more than anything right now, she just wanted his arms around her. She just wanted to lean into him and have him hold her one last time.

But she couldn't.

Because he had to leave.

Not tomorrow, but in a few minutes.

And suddenly, their plans from downstairs, the images that had been floating through her mind then...they resurfaced and invaded her mind again. But now, knowing that he was going to leave, _soon_, and that their plans for the night wouldn't tak place, she felt the loss, almost physically. "The Grand Canyon..."

He smiled forlornly. "I'd much rather go to the Grand Canyon than to Miami." And his eyes met hers, and she was ever-so-grateful that they had that piece of innuendo between them, a euphemism to which only they knew the meaning. They couldn't speak with plain words or overt touches, but they used the innuendo and their eyes...their eyes were doing a lot of speaking right then.

"I just bet you would," she chided him. But then she admitted softly, "Me, too." His eyes lit just a bit at her admission, and despite everything, she was glad to see that look just because it was so different from the uncertainty he'd experienced earlier.

"I didn't know anything about this. Paula...sometimes she just gets gung ho about things," he said apologetically.

"Obviously." She rolled her eyes. "I'm really getting sick of that woman interrupting things. It seems that whenever she shows up unexpectedly, you disappear for a while."

He cocked his head to the side as if he was thinking about it. "You may just have something there. I'll be sure to check in with you more, and if you can't reach me, send out a search party, okay? Better yet, send Esposito. He's scary."

"I'm sure you'll be fine, Castle. Annoyed, but fine." Then she took a breath. This wasn't how their goodbye was supposed to go! But she had to try to say what she needed to say before he had to leave. "Castle, I just want-"

"Beckett!" She jumped as the Captain's voice rang across the bullpen. She turned around toward his office to find him leaning out the door of his office, a fierce look on his face. "I need you in here now! I've got the Commissioner on the line."

"I...just a moment, Captain," she started to say.

"No, Beckett. You didn't understand me. I said _Commissioner_. Whatever you're doing now can wait and you all need to get your asses in here. Ryan and Esposito, you two."

Her gaze shot back to Castle as she got up. "Castle, I...I have to go," she stammered, not at all sounding like the hard core detective that she tried to be.

"You do." He agreed, but he didn't like it either. First Paula, and then the Captain. Well, the Captain didn't normally act like that, so he knew that something big must be going down. And how he wished he could stay! But he knew he couldn't, not with Paula's mandate still ringing in his ears. "Go catch the bad guys, Detective," he told her, trying to convey with a look all that he couldn't tell her.

"I...uh, Castle..." she stammered. What could she do when her Captain needed her to talk to the Commissioner, her boyfriend was going away for two months, and nobody around them even knew he was her boyfriend? But she had to touch him, and then she had to go. So on impulse, she stuck out her hand for a handshake. It wasn't what she wanted to do, but she couldn't think of anything else to do at the moment, anything acceptable anyway. She stood there with her hand out as she noted Esposito and Ryan pass by them on the way to the Captain's office, some part of her noting how they clapped Castle on the back and told him not to have too much fun on his trip, and bring them back some good stories. She looked into his blue eyes and tried to convey what she was feeling, the loss that was hitting her already, even though he wasn't even gone yet. And she tried to memorize the look in those eyes to remember when he was away. And as he took her offered hand and squeezed, she finally said softly, "Take care of yourself, Castle. And..."

"Beckett, you comin'?" Esposito prompted, cutting into their moment, although he had no idea just how much of a moment it really was. "The Captain..." he reminded her, trying to look out for her.

His voice transported her back to the present, and she knew that she had to go, _now_, into the Captain's office or he would _not_ be pleased. He nodded at her and squeezed her hand one more time before dropping it. She turned around to walk toward the Captain's office, drawing in a shaky breath in an attempt to calm herself. Just before she got there, she risked one look back toward her desk, to find Rick walking toward the elevator. And even after she was inside the Captain's office, and was listening to the Captain and the Commissioner explain their predicament, her mind registered the ding of the elevator.

And when she heard it, her breath caught as she knew what it signified.

He was gone.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Don't hate me too much, okay? And I'm ducking and running for cover now.<strong>_

_**Things will happen, but remember, I have a plan, and it's a good one (if I'm allowed to say that).**_

_**So...let me know what you think, but please be kind.**_

_**Just got done watching Linchpin a while ago. I hated the ending of last year's two parter, and I was so worried that this one would end similarly bad (IMO). But I was pleasantly surprised. I liked the episode...yay! The only thing right now that I thought could have been improved upon was the aftermath of the water thing...I mean, come on...they're not even standing close together or anything? No breathless 'we made it!' hug or even a smile? Of course, blatant Caskett moments didn't exist, but I've grown used to that. Best scene? I LOVED the morgue scene and Beckett's reaction. Someone should tell her that she totally acted like a jealous girlfriend there. SK played that one beautifully, and everyone's facial expressions were just great. And at the end when Sophia speaks Russian? How cool would it have been if Beckett said something back to her in Russian? And now, I just have to wonder if Castle is going to have a little PTSD type of reaction over being betrayed and almost killed by someone he really trusted and admired, and also about finding out about his father? **_


	24. Chapter 24

_**The next few chapters will jump ahead in time, but will contain a lot of flashback scenes. It's a little different than how I usually do things, so I hope it's not too confusing. And also, I know some of this may not be entirely believable (given Tick, Tick, Tick and Boom!), but please try to go with it anyway. And think 'Pelican Brief' (the John Grisham novel). Thanks in advance.**_

_**And thanks for not bashing me too badly after the last chapter. **_

_**A big shout-out and welcome to Someheartslove, who started with Blizzard several days ago and has now worked her way up to this story. Thanks for all of the awesome comments you've left along the way!**_

_**Disclaimer: The usual. You've read it a million times already, right?**_

* * *

><p>Three weeks.<p>

Well, almost.

That was how long he'd been gone. And Kate hated that she knew that, even down to the number of days, even down to the 'almost'.

The first few days had been surreal, and they'd been busy at the station anyway, which she supposed was actually a blessing in disguise, but also a curse. Actually, 'busy' was a gross understatement. She didn't have time to sit around and miss him, or to worry about decompressing with him after work, because she was just always _at_ work. But she still inherently missed him, inside, because he provided that levity during a tough case, but also provided just a slightly (or sometimes vastly) different way to look at the case, the clues, the motivations. And, Lord knew, over the last almost three weeks, she certainly needed that.

And not for the first time in those almost three weeks, she thought back to the events that had happened to take over her world almost the minute he was out the door.

_The case was subtle, and it was maddening. But the connections were there, and it looked like they had a serial. It was all pure, dumb luck that they found it, and it was all due to a series of happenstance coincidences. But once someone actually put the pieces together and said 'what if', it had started the ball rolling. It was a young patrol cop who did the what-ifs, and brought it to the attention of her superiors, and luckily, they listened. And once other people stopped to take a look at what she'd found, they were forced to admit she had a point. And it moved up the ranks, and more of a hypothesis was built, until it reached the Commissioner. _

_Later, Kate realized that the young patrol cop probably wouldn't be a patrol cop much longer, based on what she did with this case, if it all led where they predicted it would._

_Kate and her team were brought in when a look through some records revealed that she'd checked out cold case files relating to two of the alleged victims, dating back several months to a little over a year. They wanted to know her involvement. The Captain had already reported to the Commissioner about Beckett's ankle injury that kept her out of the field, and how she was looking into the old cases while she rehabbed it. But the Commissioner wanted to hear it from her, and wanted to know if she'd made any headway in either case. It was almost humiliating to admit that she hadn't made much progress, and she hated how she sounded to herself when she was put on the spot like that. Of course, it didn't help her concentration a bit that she had to dredge up her recollections of old cases minutes after being blindsided by Paula and having Rick essentially walk out of her daily life for two months. But she muddled through, and then, fully expecting a reprimand, she was shocked when the Commissioner, his mandate backed up by her smugly-nodding Captain, ordered her to take the lead in the case, to become the point person for determining if they had an elusive murderer roaming the streets, and if so, for hunting that person down._

_Nobody had said the word until that point, but she had to now. "Commissioner, you said the files I looked into were from 'two of the alleged victims'. How many are we looking at? If there are several, are we talking about a serial?"_

_There was a pause, after which the Commissioner told her in a very politically-correct way, "Detective, there are similarities and subtle consistencies that need to be investigated, quietly. I trust that you know what happens with public confidence when certain labels are used." _

_And without him confirming it, she knew she was right, but she would get no more confirmation and that term wasn't to be used. "With all due respect, Commissioner," she asked the speaker phone, "why me? I mean, the patrol who discovered the initial connection is from the 64th. I thought for sure they wouldn't want to give away their case. Or if it's...with the multiple victims, why not someone...higher up?" she asked, her insinuation about the FBI clearly conveyed._

_"Detective, your record speaks for itself. And I know that you're still on limited activity. This case is going to require a lot of digging around through old files, sifting for clues from old reports to find out the entire scope of the issue. That, frankly, is perfect for you now. It's a win-win. We don't know for sure that there actually IS anything going on, but the consistencies are too much to ignore, especially with the...the number of occurrences. And several of the victims were from your jurisdiction anyway."_

_"We had more than those two?" she asked, surprised. She never liked to not solve a homicide, but sometimes it happened. The clues just dried up. But to know that there were more by this same person, more cases that weren't solved but had a commonality that nobody found until now... "Commissioner, how many more of these went through the 12th?"_

_There was a pause. But finally, he said simply, "Roy?"_

_She looked to her Captain. "They weren't all yours, Beckett; they were split among all of the teams. You and the guys only had two of them."_

_"But the case files that I checked out...I didn't work on those initially." She was thinking out loud; if she and the guys had personally investigated two of them, and two more were from the other unsolved cases that she'd pulled from the archives, then that meant there were at least four... "Captain, how many total?"_

_The Captain's voice was low, his face stony with the seriousness of what he was admitting. "Five, Beckett. With a possibility of a sixth."_

_"Captain..." Five or six _just_ from their precinct _alone_?_

_"I know, Beckett. Now you all," he said, his gaze encompassing not only Beckett, but Ryan and Esposito in his statement, "know what we're up against here. If we have a crackpot out there, he's smart, but he doesn't know that we've potentially linked them together. And we need to keep it that way until we can piece together some solid information. If it goes on, we can call in reinforcements, but let's try to see what we can find out about everything before."_

_"So let me get this straight," Esposito said, speaking for the first time, "We suspect there's a...repeat offender out there, but we're not really sure?"_

_"That's correct, Detective," his Captain told him. "Like the Commissioner said, it's all just seemingly a series of coincidences or even just bad luck."_

_"And there are no coincidences," Esposito replied, quoting the absent Castle, although nobody voiced that._

_"But put them all together...well, that's what that uniform did. But now it's our job to dig further and confirm that we really do have a case, rather than some bizarre series of deaths," the Captain confirmed. "And if we have a case, then we have to find the dirtbag that's at the heart of it, before he kills anyone else."_

And dig, they had done. It started then, and though she didn't technically have time to miss Rick, she still did. The case files, most of them by now cold case files, arrived later that day from the 64th and the 53rd. At the beginning, those two precincts, along with the 12th, were the only ones with the reported series of 'coincidences' in their unsolved murders. Over the ensuing weeks, the 18th added a couple of files. It was tough because the victims' causes of death weren't the same. And it got even more chilling when Ryan noticed that for one of the victims, the death had first been ruled accidental before some evidence emerged and it was changed to a homicide. They didn't have the time to spend adding another whole set of cases to their pool, but there was a distinct possibility that there were more out there that they hadn't found yet; deaths that would never have raised any suspicion before this. Now, it just reminded them that they had a lot of work to do. And it seemed the death toll could easily go higher and higher before they caught the guy.

Kate and the guys dove into the case immediately after walking out of Montgomery's office. Hours later, after a trip to the break room to get a cup of coffee, she came back to find two texts that she'd missed from Rick.

In pure Castle fashion, the first one said simply, '_Miss me yet?_

Had it not been for their conversation earlier in the day, she would have probably rolled her eyes at his message. But she didn't, and she scrolled to the second message, which after the previous several hours, instantly made her laugh.

_"Emergency! Send ear plugs or I may not survive if I have to keep listening to Paula."_

She responded back to him, _"Liquor on the plane. Dull the senses."_

The next message took a few minutes, but even though he'd already left and she'd said that lame goodbye to him, the message still hit her with a melancholy-inducing force that she would not have predicted if she hadn't been feeling it right then. The message? It was relatively simple, considering the punch it packed: _"Have to go. Plane about to take off. Miss you already."_

And even though she couldn't really spare it, she took a minute to sit down at her desk. Her eyes had been immediately drawn to Castle's empty chair, where she knew nobody would be sitting for quite a while. She closed her eyes when she felt the tears prick at the back of her eyelids. Drawing a deep breath, she silently reprimanded herself for letting herself get this emotional over the man and what amounted to his business trip. Yes, it was a long business trip, but that's essentially what it was. And even though he'd been gone for hours and she knew that, seeing the message about the plane taking off was just one more thing that really drove it home for her that he was really and truly not there. And that he wasn't coming back anytime soon. And while Detective Beckett knew she had a job to do, Kate, the woman whose boyfriend just left for two months, wanted to go somewhere private and have a little cry and feel sorry for herself for just a little while.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

She couldn't believe this case had been going on for almost three weeks. By now, everyone was so sick of it, and they were so frustrated at the circles they were running in. The individual cases, the victims seemed so incredibly random sometimes that it made them all second-guess themselves more than once if they were on the right track, or any track at all.

_Of course, Castle couldn't wait to find out what was going on right after he left; it wasn't every day when 'his' homicide team was brought into a conference call with the Commissioner. Paula would hardly shut up all the way to the airport, and he was only able to fire off a couple of quick texts to Kate right before the plane took off. He tried calling her that night but she didn't pick up. They didn't actually connect until later the next day, almost dinnertime, when she and the guys decided that after the late night before, the early morning and being stuck there most of the day pouring over files and making charts, they needed to get out of the station or their eyes were going to cross. While sitting at a little sandwich shop a block away, she felt her phone vibrate in her jacket pocket. Taking it out, she experienced a little jolt when she saw Rick's picture on the display. As nonchalantly as possible, she got up under the auspices of going to the ladies room as she answered the phone with her usual, "Beckett."_

_"Hey there, beautiful," came the voice through the phone._

_She adopted a low, sultry voice. "Hey there. Who's this? You sound all strong and handsome, and you know, my boyfriend is away...he left me all alooonnnneeee..." she drawled._

_Momentarily taken aback, he was silent for a few moments and then replied drolly, "Funny, Kate."_

_She laughed, knowing she'd surprised him. Boy, did it feel good to laugh. She leaned against the wall right inside the ladies' restroom as she asked, "All finished doing your Julia Child impression, Castle?"_

_"Yeah. Thank God!" he said dramatically._

_"How was your fellow guest?" she asked, referring to the popular actress._

_After a pause, he asked, "Kate, we're doing this honesty thing between us, right? Full disclosure and all of that?"_

_At the hesitancy in his words, she got a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. "Yeah...Castle, what are you-"_

_"Kate," he interrupted, "I don't know how to tell you this, but you know that actress? I mean, she was just gorgeous! She smiles these seductive little smiles and then, after the show was done, I was just amazed to find out that she has really, reallllllly..." he drew out the adjectives, and then she decided she didn't want to know whatever he was going to tell her. After what Ryan said, thinking about him with the actress was bad enough, but hearing him talk about her...just no. _

_She started to say "Castle," right as he finished what he was trying to say after the 'reallys'. Then she stopped, because she couldn't have heard what she thought she did, could she? So she asked him, "What did you just say?"_

_She could hear the mirth in his voice as he said, "I was just telling you that for such a gorgeous woman who knows how to be coy and make men want her, her sex appeal just didn't work when she had really, really bad breath."_

_Now the pause was on her end as she digested what he was saying. "What?"_

_"Yeah, it was awful! After the cameras stopped rolling, she sidled up close to me and tried some very flirtatious maneuvers, which I must say that I did not encourage. And then...man! Whoa! This girl had THE worst breath I've smelled in a long time. I gotta say, Kate, your morning breath in the Hamptons? You know, when you were joking about it? You got nothing on this girl!"_

_"She had bad breath?" Kate confirmed. "Bad breath, Castle? What about all of that crap about full disclosure? Huh?" _

_"What about your 'who's this' when you answered the phone? Huh?" he threw back at her, although she could feel the cocky grin in his words even though she couldn't see it on his face._

_Realizing that he'd gotten her back, she informed him, "You know, if you keep this up for the next two months, the first thing I may do when you get back will be to shoot you."_

_"Hey, you started it!"_

_"But bad breath, Castle? Really? That's the best you could come up with?"_

_"No, that part of it was true! Really! It was nasty, Beckett. All I could do to not gag or spit up my herbed salmon frittata." She rolled her eyes, but then she decided that she needed to head back to the table. But she almost stopped in her tracks when he admitted softly, "I really miss you, you know."_

_She felt a warm feeling flow through her at his words, and her reply just tumbled out of her lips. "Thanks. I miss you too." She caught sight of Ryan and Esposito at the table she was approaching. "Look, I'm back at the table. The guys and I had to escape the station for a while so were at the sandwich shop down the street. I'm going to put you on speaker and you can tell the guys about your actress cooker."_

_The guys' eyes got big at the mention of the actress and especially about Beckett's phrasing. She set the phone down and Ryan said, "Hey, bro. Got something interesting to tell us about your, uh, dish?"_

_"Yeah, bro. What did you make, anyway? Something you're gonna make for us when you get back?" Esposito chimed in._

_"Herbed salmon frittata with asparagus and feta." _

_"For...breakfast?" Esposito asked._

_"Well, the frittata is egg, after all," Rick reasoned._

_Kate listened to them banter about the merits or drawbacks of having asparagus for breakfast, just grateful for the normalcy, even though Rick wasn't right there with them. But they were giving way too much time to asparagus, when she knew they would probably get a much bigger kick out of hearing about the actress. "Castle," she interrupted, "the actress? I'm sure the guys are just dying to hear about your...cooking exploits with her."_

_"Yeah, well," Castle told them. Even through the phone, with the tone of his voice, Kate could imagine the thoughtful look on his face as he tried to find the perfect way to burst the boys' bubble about the merits of the popular actress. "Guys? Let's just say that there must be a shortage of breath mints in tinsel town."_

_"Huh?" asked Ryan._

_"I just hope she doesn't have any kissing scenes scheduled today." Of course, he was trying to add his usual flair to the simple declaration that the actress had bad breath._

_The lightbulb in Esposito's head evidently went on. "Castle, you sayin' the girl has bad breath?"_

_"Bad enough to incapacitate a small army," he exaggerated._

_Ryan looked a bit crestfallen. "Damn, Castle, burst my bubble." But then he got a gleam in his eye. "And exactly how is it that you know this again, Castle? I mean, that you know the status of her breath, that might imply..." he trailed off with a smug look on his face before he remembered Beckett was right there._

_"It might imply," Rick said, picking up Ryan's innuendo before he smashed it to bits, "that as soon as the taping was done and we were off the air, she was all over me and in my face. It was hard to smile at her as I politely pushed her off of me and made a hasty retreat."_

_"So what's left now, Castle? Got a glitzy party to go to on the beach or something?"_

_"Gentlemen...oh, and Beckett...I'll have you know that as we speak, I'm in one of the airport lounges awaiting my next flight."_

_"You're not staying in Miami longer? No time for the beach? Come on, Castle, I was looking forward to some pictures."_

_"Sorry, Esposito. No, it's off to D.C for a day. Or two. I can't remember which. That's where I was supposed to go first before this Miami thing came up. But anyway, what are you guys up to? Beckett said you were stuck inside all day? And what happened with the...uh...phone call from yesterday?" _

_"It's still kind of early, Castle, so we don't know very much. We don't even know if we have a case."_

_"So what was the big urgency?"_

_The three detectives looked at each other, and then by mutual consent, Ryan picked up Beckett's phone and handed it to her, while Ryan said, "Yeah, take him off speaker."_

_Kate nodded her assent and took the phone. "Castle, it's touchy and it's hush-hush, got it? But it has to do with Fruit Loops and Rice Krispies." When the words were out of her mouth, Esposito gave her a strange look, and so did Ryan, but Ryan caught on first, raising his eyebrows at her and giving her a nod of approval. _

_On the other end of the conversation, Castle said, "Kate? What does Kellogg's have to do with anything? Are you feeling okay?"_

_"Castle, we're in a public place, and like I said, it's touchy. Think about it. And just know that Cheerios may be involved too."_

_"But Cheerios are made by General Mills. I just don't get what cereal..." he trailed off, and even though she couldn't see him, once again she was able to gauge his reaction and she knew the moment he understood her clues. "Oh, my God, Kate, you have a serial killer?" he squeaked. "_That's_ what you had to talk to the Commissioner about?"_

_"Maybe, and yes. We're investigating the clues and the possibility."_

_"Why isn't the FBI involved? Don't they always get involved with serials?"_

_"We're not fully sure that we have one. It's subtle, Castle. So the Commissioner has us checking old files for commonalities. We'll see what we can find out and then he may call them in if it's proven to be a..." She cut herself off before she could say 'serial killer', conscious of her surroundings, and then finished, "...a repeat Fruit Loop offender." Esposito gave her a look that said 'Nice', and she shrugged in response, as if to say 'you try to come up with something better.'_

Remembering that first time they told Castle about the case, those long weeks before, it brought a little smile to her lips. Even with the subject matter, he'd sounded like a kid in a candy store, and he wanted to know everything. Immediately. He was frustrated when they couldn't tell him much, especially right then. And he was more frustrated that he couldn't be in on the investigation. He called when he could, or she called him when she thought about it, or when she needed a break. They didn't have very many chances to talk privately over those next several days, mainly because she was always at the precinct, and there were always people around. During the one night she was actually able to go home at a reasonable hour, he was stuck at a charity event and she was asleep by the time he got back to his hotel room. They said they'd Skype with each other, but between both of their schedules, it was proving to be nearly impossible.

Still, they spoke when they could, and he tried to offer advice, but it was hard. And it was frustrating for both of them, because he wasn't right there, and consequently didn't know what they'd already tried and what leads were dead-ends. She finally managed to Skype with him once, almost a week after he left, although on that first Skype call, his mind definitely wasn't on the case.

_It was after another late evening pouring over files, and she'd finally dragged herself home. Rick called her as she was making her way to her apartment door, and when he found out she was actually at home, he sounded almost giddy. So she booted up her laptop and initiated the Skype call while she set the computer on her bed as she kicked her shoes off and found some lounge pants and a t-shirt to change into. She'd just pulled off her sweater when she heard a loud 'Oh, my God!' coming from the laptop. She looked down at the computer to find that it had indeed connected, and there she got her first view of Rick in six days-eyes wide and mouth gaping open.  
><em>

_"Castle?" she asked the computer. "What's wrong?"_

_His mouth opened and closed like a fish a few times before he said, "Kate, this isn't a phone call. I can SEE you. And um..."_

_His tone made her look down, and she realized she was wearing only her bra on top. But it was a pretty modest bra, and he had, after all, seen her in her bra during that one incident in the Hamptons. And she was tired. "What's wrong, Castle, don't like beige?" she asked, referring to the color of the bra. And then she threw her sweater over the camera on the top of her laptop screen so he wouldn't be able to see anymore, while she made sound effects like, "Oh, I'm so glad that's off! Ooooo... That's so much better!" She quickly took off the rest of her clothes and threw on her lounge pants and t-shirt. Then she removed the sweater from the laptop, revealing his still somewhat shocked face. "Oh, I'm sorry, Rick. I must have thrown my sweater over the camera," she told him innocently._

It was still funny to think about now, and it seemed like in the few times they'd Skyped since then, she always found him with a hopeful look on his face when the call connected, like he was anticipating that he'd again be lucky to find her in some state of undress.

But he always did like to be helpful on cases, and the fact of the matter was that he _was _often helpful. With a case like this, they needed all of the help they could get. And somehow, it seemed just a bit ironic that nobody thought or even expected that Castle would be able to help with any cases when he was on his tour, but in actuality, he was the one who provided their first real lead and broke the case wide open.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Like I said above, I hope this wasn't too weird for any of you. I thought this was a good place to end this chapter; it was getting kind of long.<strong>_

_**Thanks for reading, and if you can let me know what you think of it, I'd greatly appreciate it!**_


	25. Chapter 25

_**Sorry for the longer delay; a bit more in-depth research was calling me. But here it is. More flashbacks, and once again, parts of this are kind of different, for me.**_

_**Disclaimer: I own no characters, except those I made up in my mind. And in this chapter, most of them are dead anyway.**_

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><p><em>"There must be some way I can help, even if I'm not right there."<em>

That proclamation was how it started. It had a slight whine to it at the time, because the frustration of the first week apart was beginning to take its toll. It might have been better if the couple had been able to Skype more, or had been able to at least have more than the occasional private conversation every few days. But with the case, and the research, and the fact that sometimes Kate felt they were going to go insane before they got any real leads, she just rarely got away from the precinct, and when she did, their schedules just didn't mesh. Despite that first stop in the nation's capital, Rick then went to the west coast, and a lot of his engagements were in the evening. So with the time difference, it meant that when Kate did get home, Rick was busy at a book signing or some other event, and when he finally got back to his hotel, she was trying to catch up on some much-needed rest so as much as he might want to talk to her, he didn't want to disturb her.

Once he tried to set his alarm early so he could try to talk to her before she went to the precinct. Actually, early didn't begin to cover it. It wasn't early...it was an inhuman punishment. But all of that evaporated when he heard her voice, tinged with a tone of worry when she answered.

_"Castle?"_

_"Yeah, it's me." And then he couldn't stifle the huge yawn that escaped from his mouth._

_"Is everything all right? It must be...what?" She looked at her clock. "Rick, it's three in the morning where you are! Why are you calling me at three in the morning?"_

_"Wanted to talk to you. Feel like I can never talk to you at work. Not for real, anyway. So I set my ahhhh..." His words were interrupted by another loud yawning sound on his end. "Alarm," he finished._

_"You were asleep?"_

_"Yeah. Nice dream too." She could hear the tired smile in his voice as he began to reminisce about his dream. "You were in it. We were in the Hamptons, and you were in that thong bikini that you said you have..." And as content as he sounded with the dream, he still needed to yawn again after that statement. _

_He was not a quiet yawner. And after hearing several of his yawns, Kate found herself yawning too. Then she realized what she was doing, and knowing that she had a long day ahead of her, she told him sternly, "Castle, quit yawning. You're making me yawn. And I can't be yawning...I have to go to work!"_

_"Well, it's early!" he whined._

_"Then why did you call me?"_

_"I told you. Wanted to talk to you. But you're busy and you're always at the station and we can never talk. I just want to talk. Us. Normally, without having to watch what we say because there are other people around. I just...I miss you."_

_Despite the early hour, she'd been almost ready to leave for work. When he called, though, she sat down on the bed to find out why he was calling her so early. Now, as he heard him sweetly but sleepily admit that he missed her-and that he'd roused himself out of bed in the middle of his night because he missed her-she felt an unexpected warm feeling in her belly. It was that little punch she felt sometimes when she least expected it. She never thought of herself as romantic and girly, at least not since she was a teenager, but she realized she felt that way right then, listening to this man admit that he missed her, amidst many tired yawns, in that sweet and almost slightly embarrassed tone._

_"Rick, that's..." What could she say? Once more, she didn't know what to say when he got like this. How sweet he could be sometimes, seemingly without even trying, still caught her off-guard much of the time. She certainly didn't want to admit to the man, when he was across the country, that he'd successfully turned her mushy. His ego would probably blow up. "That's really sweet, Rick," she finally told him. "And I...uh..." Why was it so hard for her to say it? Just do it, Kate. Just go for it. "I miss you too," she blurted out, but softly._

_If she could have seen the huge but sleepy grin that appeared on his face as soon as he heard her hesitant admission, she would have turned just a little bit mushier._

_Realizing that she was actually really glad that he'd called, she sat back on the bed and propped herself against the headboard. What would a few minutes hurt? It _was_ nice to be able to talk to him unguarded._

_Through the conversation, he got her to promise to go to the loft to have dinner with Alexis that night. She tried to beg off, saying that she'd most likely have to work on the case, but he logically pointed out that she had to eat, and she did promise to look in on Alexis occasionally. It wasn't a hard sell, at any rate, and she agreed pretty quickly, caught between a mix of the guilt of upholding her promise and the desire to spend some time at the loft, and with his daughter._

_Eventually the conversation slowed, and the yawns on his end got more pronounced. And during her telling him about her case, she heard a sound coming from his end of the phone. She stopped talking and listened, and then she rolled her eyes as she smiled._

_He was snoring. He'd fallen back to sleep._

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

If she'd known that having dinner with Castle's daughter at the loft would be the catalyst for the breakthrough in their case, she would have done it days before. It was certainly fun laughing with the girl; a nice break in her routine of late. And it felt better than she expected to be back at the loft again, even if it was only for a few hours in the evening. It felt comfortable, homey. It was like snuggling up with a nice warm blanket by the fire, much like she had with Rick during many of the nights she'd stayed with him and his family. But with that comfortable feeling, there was also some of the nervousness; she didn't want to think any more about what it might mean that she felt so comfortable and natural in the loft, and with Alexis. Especially when Rick wasn't even there.

But Alexis had been practically bursting at the seams with excitement to show her the Skype setup that her dad had rigged up; there was a webcam now mounted on the top of his large flatscreen TV, and with the push of a few buttons, Alexis showed her that they could Skype via the TV instead of with the smaller laptop screen. And, she explained, the camera gave him a view of the whole room, so it was more like being at home for him. And then, even though Kate didn't expect it, Alexis had started up the Skype session right there and within a few minutes, Castle himself was right there on his flatscreen TV, larger than life. Literally larger than life, given the size of his TV.

She, of course, gave him more grief about falling asleep in the middle of their conversation earlier that morning. Alexis just gave her father a look and rolled her eyes in much the same way that Kate had earlier that morning when she heard him snoring. But they ate dinner in the living room, and Castle had even ordered room service, so it as much like a normal dinner between the three of them as it could be, considering one of those three was on a completely different coast than the other two.

During the course of the meal and ensuing "I ate too much and I'm so full" after-dinner time, Castle got the brilliant idea (as assessed by him, of course) that Kate and the boys should come over to the loft the next night for dinner, and they could update him on the case. He had a late engagement the next night, so he said he'd be free around the New York dinner hour. That's where the famous last words of _"There must be some way I can help, even if I'm not right there," _came in, and once he got the thought in his brain, it wasn't going to leave until a plan was put into place. He begged, pleaded, cajoled and whined. And then he simply asked, and Kate, having finally seen the merits of his idea, agreed. He almost looked a bit shell-shocked when she said yes to him simply asking. She just smiled sweetly at him, the look on her face saying 'yeah, it's a good idea, but there's no way I'm going to tell you that.' But he could read it and only grinned back at her with a sappy look on his face. Alexis looked between the Detective and the screen that showed her father, and she rolled her eyes again. Those two had it sooooo bad.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Thinking back on it, Kate smiled as she remembered the suspicious looks the guys had when she told them early that next morning that they all had plans for dinner that night.

_"Hey, guys? By the way, we've got plans tonight for dinner."_

_Both of the detectives looked up at her, surprised looks on their faces. "Beckett, I just never knew you felt that way," Esposito quipped. _

_Ryan picked right up on it. "Sorry, I'm already spoken for."_

_She rolled her eyes and tossed a pen across the table at Esposito. "Oh, shut up, Esposito. Castle invited us over to his loft for dinner."_

_"Castle? He's back already?" Ryan was obviously surprised to hear his name mentioned in reference to dinner._

_"No, but he rigged up this setup to use Skype off the big TV in his living room, and he wanted to hear more about the case, so he said we could go over there for dinner and fill him in on everything."_

_"Kinda like a video conference?" Ryan asked. _

_Kate nodded. "A really big-ass video conference, if I'm remembering Castle's TV right," Esposito added. "Hey, is he springing for dinner?"_

_Kate nodded again. "Italian, if that's okay with you guys. He knows this little place...best lasagna. But Alexis has to make cream puffs for her French class, so she volunteered to make some extra for dessert."_

_The guys looked at each other again and shrugged. "Castle's buying dinner, little Castle making cream puffs...sure, I'm game," Esposito said. _

_And it was apparently settled when Ryan added thoughtfully, "And his living room is a lot more comfortable than this place, that's for sure. Smells better too."_

_o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o_

_"Castle, man, Beckett wasn't kidding about your little Italian place. Man, this stuff is good! Where've you been hiding this place all this time?"_

_"You like it, huh?" Rick was wearing a smug grin, and he'd been wearing some form of it ever since the call had connected. He may have said quite a few times that he missed Kate, but from that grin that never quite left his face, she could see that he missed the boys too, missed being with all of them and working on the cases. "Beckett didn't believe me when I took her there once. She even got mad at me when I ordered for her. But come on, how can you get mad at _that_ lasagna?"_

_Of course, OF COURSE, Ryan picked up on that right away. "You took Beckett there? When?"  
><em>

_That was the first time the smile left his face. It dropped away just as soon as he realized that he'd stepped in it by revealing they'd been to Nico's place before._

_But it was Beckett who, before Castle could utter a word, said nonchalantly, but softly so Alexis couldn't hear from the other room, "Yeah, Ryan. He took me there and we painted each other's naked bodies with leftover sauce from the lasagna." She waited until his eyes got big and then she countered, "Ryan, you _know_ he was carting me around before he left. One time he suggested we grab a bite to eat because he had to get something for Alexis anyway. It was after one of my doctor appointments, wasn't it, Castle?" She was sitting to the right of the other two, so she arched her right eyebrow at him as a silent order to just agree with her and can the rest of his color commentary of the time they'd spent together. She hoped he could see her glare clearly because she knew his laptop screen wasn't nearly as large as his TV._

_"Uh...yeah...right. I think it was. So, what about the case? Why are you not sure if you have a serial or not?" _

_'Well, Castle,' thought Kate, 'way to be subtle with that very abrupt change of topic.'_

_But Esposito started explaining. "The uniform caught onto the fact that for this one vic, there was no blood. It was a strangulation. But there was a wound on the vic's thumb; from what the ME could tell, a fresh cut. And from that blood, we found a bloody fingerprint."_

_"Did you run the fingerprint?"_

_Esposito gave him a look that said 'duh.' "Yes, Castle, we ran the print," he said evenly, but made his point before he went on. "That's what's weird. The fingerprint is the vic's."_

_"So the guy...what? Cut himself when he was being strangled? Yeah, maybe nicked his thumb on another fingernail or something. Guy's getting strangled, he's going to struggle, so that's plausible, right? It bled, he left a fingerprint." Castle was going through the motions, writing the scene in his head._

_"Except for one thing," Kate said. He raised his eyebrow at her in challenge, and she continued. She knew this would get him. "The thumb wound was on his left thumb, and it was a clean cut, like from a knife or razor blade. The fingerprint from the vic? Right middle finger."_

_"Like when you flip someone the bird?" Rick asked._

_"Told you he'd pick right up on that one," Ryan muttered._

_Kate confirmed quickly. "Yes, Castle. But the salient point is that there was no way that the fingernail on the right middle finger caused the cut on the left thumb. Nails were trimmed, and there wasn't any skin or blood under the nail anyway. The ME checked."_

_"So...what? The killer cut the guy's thumb just to get blood to leave a bloody fingerprint with the right middle finger?"_

_"Yup," Ryan said simply._

_"That really doesn't make sense," Castle observed._

_"Or, more likely," Beckett reasoned, "is that it does make sense in some twisted, psychopathic way, but we just haven't found out how twisted it is yet. That's why we're here. Care to lend us your insights, Castle?"_

_Through the camera, she could see he put his hand to his chest in mock affront. "Are you saying I'm twisted or psychopathic?" _

_"Well, Castle...let's just say you do have a way about you with these types of things."_

_"Should I be offended? No, never mind, don't answer that. Just tell me: how many victims do you have?"_

_"Ten. Maybe."_

_"Wow. But why maybe?"_

_"Because while we found bloody fingerprints at a lot of the scenes, we didn't find them at all of them. Basically, there are commonalities, but there is no one thing that connects all of the cases. Yes, there are some bloody fingerprints, but the MO isn't the same for everyone, the locations are different, the times of day are different."_

_"How many bloody fingerprints do you have?"_

_"Of those ten? Seven. But the other three don't have the fingerprints."_

_"Can you go over the victims?"_

_As soon as he asked the question, Ryan got a proud grin on his face. "Check your email, Castle."_

_"Why?"_

_"I took a picture of the murder board and sent it to you. Although, because there are so many vics, it's actually two boards by now, so there are two pictures."_

_They could still see him with the webcam, but it was obvious he was checking his email. "Ah, there they are. Opening them..." he narrated, looking intently at the screen. They watched as she took in the picture of the murder board, looking at what they knew about each victim. He started reading their names aloud, almost as if he was getting a feel for the information, trying to digest it. "John Inverson...he was the first one?"_

_"Yeah," Esposito replied, "followed by-"_

_"John Cummings, Hans Hoffman, Joan Abbott, John Ellingson, Iohannes Lavrentios, Evan Miller, John Collins, John Ingersoll and Jan Nellis."_

_"So you can see that there's nothing that ties them together except for the bloody fingerprint for seven of them."_

_"So what tied the other two to the group?"_

_"Coincidence," Beckett told him, "Basically, too much of a coincidence to really be a coincidence. They _have_ to be connected."_

_"I've taught you well, my child," Castle told her, having flipped back to the Skype session, pleased that she was basically spouting his theory about coincidences._

_"So we know there's some sort of tenuous connection between these people, but there are no commonalities between ALL of them," Kate told him, somewhat wearily. They needed a break, but they'd been over all of these details SO many times. They'd dug into these people's lives had cross-referenced until they were blue in the face. There was just nothing that connected all of them. But she knew Castle would need more. "We only have seven bloody fingerprints out of the ten. Six different causes of death. They don't know each other, live by each other, or work in the same area. Not all of them. There's a preponderance of the name 'John', but that only accounts for five out of the ten. And two of them are women, so it's not even a gender thing."_

_Ryan and Esposito just sat there, glumly nodding. "So you know there's something, some connection, but you just can't figure out what," Castle said slowly._

_"Isn't that what Beckett just said?" Ryan asked. But nobody got a chance to respond because Alexis swooped into the room carrying a platter._

_"Am I interrupting? Because if I am, I can come back later."_

_"Not a problem, Little Castle. We need an interruption right now," Esposito told her._

_"Are those your cream puffs?" Ryan inquired of the girl. "Because if they are, I'm ready for that interruption."_

_"Good. I'm taking the rest of them to school tomorrow for my French class, so you guys can be my taste testers."_

_They all looked up at the TV when they heard Rick say, "You know, pumpkin, this is really unfair. I can see them, but I can't eat them."_

_"I'd send you one, dad, but you know, whipping cream, refrigeration, food poisoning..." To the others, she said, "Just grab one, cut it open, put some of the whipping cream in the middle, and sprinkle it with as much sugar as you want. And don't make a mess when you eat it like Dad would do if he was here."_

_"Funny. Beckett, you eat one for me, okay? And Mademoiselle Alexis, I expect you to make me some when I get back."_

_"Of course, mon père," Alexis told her father. Then she looked thoughtful for a moment before she said, "Mais mon nom n'est pas Alexis dans ma classe de français. Je m'appelle Giselle."_

_As Alexis started speaking French, Ryan and Esposito froze. Castle did too, on his end. Kate, who understood that the girl simply said she didn't use her own name in her French class, but instead used the moniker of 'Giselle', merely asked, "Pourquoi?"_

_All three pairs of male eyes volleyed from Alexis over to Beckett when it became apparent that she was the only other one who'd understood the girl. "Mes amies..." she started telling Kate, elaborating that she and her friends decided to choose totally different names for their French class, just because they could. _

_"Beckett, you know French too?" Ryan asked. She nodded as she chose a creme puff from the platter. "Uh...what did you guys say?" he asked suspiciously._

_"Freaky when they talk like that, isn't it?" Castle asked._

_As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Kate wanted to shoot him for speaking before thinking again, when he alluded to the fact that Kate had had many more conversations with his daughter in the other language. So before they could hopefully pick up on the nuance of that comment, she just said, "Simmer down, guys. When Castle called her 'Mademoiselle Alexis', she only said that she doesn't go by Alexis in her French class. She and her friends chose different names for the fun of it. So she's not 'Alexis' in French, only in English. In the other language, she becomes 'Giselle'." Alexis nodded._

_Then, surprisingly, the smile dropped off of Castle's face and he began typing on his computer again. It was obvious he was looking at something on his computer, not the living room where they all sat, and where Esposito had just dropped a glob of whipping cream on his leg as he bit into his creme puff. _

_After a few minutes of typing, Castle got a smug smile on his face as he clapped his hands together with a loud smack. "That's it! That's your key! That's your link with all of the cases!"_

_The three detectives looked at each other and then back at the TV. "What?" Beckett asked. "You found a commonality? How?"_

_"It's what you said! And Alexis! Or Giselle, or whoever she is. But that's the key, don't you see? Beckett, you said you have ten victims, and five of them are named John. But that's not true. They're ALL named John."_

_"Castle, you okay out there? Two of the vics are women, dude," Ryan told him absently as he tried not to make a mess like Esposito just had._

_"No. I mean yes. But...look. You have the five named John, and then you also have Hans, Joan, Iohannes, Evan and Jan. ALL of those other names are derivatives of the name John, only in other languages. The two ladies names were feminized versions of the name 'John'. Hans is German, Iohannes is of some Greek origins. 'Evan' is a Welsh version translated into English over the years. Don't you see?"_

_He seemed so excited and his excitement made everyone stop to really consider what he was saying. And the three detectives looked at each other, and then scrambled as they grabbed their files, as Castle looked at them proudly. They all had that feeling that said that after a week on this case, they just may have their first solid lead, with finally some sort of connection between all of the victims._

_o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o_

Esposito interrupted Beckett's case musings as he slammed down his phone. "Yo, Beckett," he called out. "We found another one. We found another 'John' vic."

* * *

><p><em><strong>There we go, folks. Hope you enjoyed the latest installment. It was a little more case-heavy, but I tried to give it a Castle flavor. And we have to solve the case before they can have the chance to do anything else, riiiiiight?<strong>_

_**The French was double-checked with Google translate, so blame the translation engine if it's not right. I would have thought that it would be 'en ma classe de français,' not 'dans', but that's what Google said so I went with it. If anyone knows for sure, I'll be happy to change it if it's wrong.**_

_**Isn't it funny what they say about when you see someone yawn, it makes you yawn too? It's true. And do you know what? It apparently works with writing about fictional characters yawning too. When I was writing the part at the beginning about the middle of the night phone call and the yawns, I had to stop to yawn myself, several times. And it wasn't even the middle of the night when I wrote it.**_

_**Until next time...au revoir and Happy Castle Monday! **_


	26. Chapter 26

_**Thanks for the positive response for the last chapter. I kind of liked how it turned out, so I'm glad others seemed to like it too. **_

_**I've gotten some new people story alerting this, so I encourage you to drop me a line and say Hi. When I get new people who alert the story, I always wonder what they like about it that makes them want to follow it. (So then, obviously, I can do more of that!) **_

_**I had several of you who figured out the connection, so kudos to you! I always seem to forget how smart you all are! And honestly, Ariel119 pointed out the double letter thing with all but one of the victims, and it never occurred to me! So I'll just say right now...good catch, but it was purely unintentional. (And if you like double letter trivia, the word 'bookkeeper' is the only word in the English language with three sets of consecutive double letters. Or at least it was about 25 years ago.)**_

_**The 'present day' timeline is still about three weeks after he left on the book tour, but we're still having flashbacks. The flashbacks are bringing the case along, and are getting closer to that present day time.**_

* * *

><p><em>Previously: Beckett was remembering back to when she and the boys had a Skype video conference with Castle over dinner, where they explained how their case was going. Castle found a lead; all of the victims were named John, or some derivative of John, either in English or in a different language. <em>

_And then in the present day: Esposito interrupted Beckett's case musings as he slammed down his phone. "Yo, Beckett," he called out. "We found another one. We found another 'John' vic."_

Castle had been pretty pleased with himself for finding the link, but he'd also been chagrinned when he realized that the unintended result of him discovering a link between the victims was that the detectives, including his secret girlfriend, would have to go back to the station and follow up on the new information. They discussed it a little more, and then they started packing up to head out, amidst protests from the man on the TV.

As Kate got up from her desk to head into the conference room where they had all of the information about the 'John Vics'-as they were now called-set up, she thought about Rick's mournful look that he gave them all from the TV screen as they said their goodbyes that night a few weeks before. And as it turned out, they would have almost been better off staying at Castle's loft and eating creme puffs until they were sick and making Castle jealous, for all the good that going back to the precinct did them that night. At two in the morning, they had to admit that while it helped for them to actually have some sort of connection between the victims, it ultimately did just about nothing for their case or tracking down who was behind it.

Now, the newest 'John Vic', Kate found out when she entered the conference room, was another one of the ones that they likely wouldn't have found as soon, had it not been for Castle's language knowledge. The thirty-four year old victim was a pop-and-drop that had gone unnoticed by them originally, but now, with the death toll rising, and with them knowing just a bit more about the methodology of the killer, they found that he did indeed fit into this whole, sick mess. She just wished that it hadn't taken so many deaths for them to pick up on the clues that he was leaving.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

_She was, of course, at the precinct early. It had become a ritual with all of them, with each of them somehow thinking that if they came in early enough, fresh for a new day, they'd find a break in the case. Castle had found the break in the case four days earlier, and since then, they'd found two more victims, both apparently killed after their last victim of record, Jan Nellis. John Nowatowski and Ian Emerson, of course died in different areas, on different days, and didn't know each other. One was found in the stairwell of his office building and the other was found hanging from the fire escape outside of his apartment. Nowatowski didn't show up right away; his was another case that was originally labeled an accident. But after the commonality that Castle had found with the name 'John' and all derivatives, Ryan had put a flag in the computer to be notified of all new deaths where the victim's name was 'John', 'Jon', or one of the other derivatives that Castle had found. So when they started looking at other deaths, retroactive to Jan Nellis' death, John Nowatowski had popped up. At the time, it was the only death with one of the flagged names since Nellis, so the team decided to take a closer look, even though the case had been closed as an accidental death; just a random piece of bad luck for Mr. Nowatowski, to lose his balance and fall down the cement stairs like he did._

_But that was when, in looking at the photos of the scene where they found Nowatowski, they noticed the fingerprint. It was almost covered up by the placement of his hand where it was resting on the landing where he fell, but you could see it. It was too late now to dust the print to make sure it belonged to Mr. Nowatowski, but they had a hunch what they would have found._

_His first name was John, after all._

_So they had to conclude that the 'accident' that had claimed Mr. Nowatowski's life-what originally looked to be a random fall down some stairs with a very unfortunate collision of his head with the heavy metal railing-was not an accident at all. Add another one to the list._

_She met Esposito at the coffee machine, both having the same thought that it would be good to get some caffeine in their systems before they even tried to get to work. _

_"Hey," he said, by way of a greeting._

_"Hey."_

_He turned around and leaned against the counter while she filled her cup. "You as sick of this place as I am?"_

_She smiled ruefully. "Probably more."_

_"Wish Castle was around to give us some comic relief. You know, we should do that video thing again. And get food from that same place too. Man, that was good."_

_"Yeah, maybe sometime. But Alexis is out visiting him now, so I think he's going to be pretty busy with her."_

_"Damn."_

_Kate smiled at Esposito's reaction. They all, in their own ways, missed Castle. And even though they had to leave in a hurry that night, both of the guys had brought up the dinner at Castle's loft several times in the days since. Castle was a member of their team, and even though he wasn't 'official', they still felt the void of his absence._

_And then there was the fact that Kate, herself, felt petty because she realized that she felt just a little bit jealous of Alexis for being able to see Castle and spend time with him. And then she felt guilty, because who was she to begrudge the girl some time with her father? And he was a great dad. But she missed him, dammit. She'd even bitten the bullet and had told him so in a quick text message. Putting it into the message, in a more tangible form than just spoken words that were gone with the wind, was kind of a big step for her, but afterwards, she realized that she felt good about it. Acknowledging it to him helped in some strange way. Because the longer he was gone, the more her life was overtaken by this case, the more she realized and readily admitted that she missed him. Absence did make the heart grow fonder, but it really, really sucked to live through it._

_Several cups of coffee later, Beckett noticed Ryan staring at the murder boards curiously. He was jotting things down on paper and crossing things out, and then writing more. And then all of a sudden he took his pad of paper and got up, walking over to stand right in front of one of the boards. He alternately pointed to the name of each victim and wrote something down on his pad of paper, finally muttering, "No way," as he plunked himself down in a chair with an air of disbelief. _

_Beckett and Esposito looked up from their files and had been watching him, wondering what he was on to. "What's up, Ryan? Did you find something?" Beckett asked._

_He looked back at them then, almost looking like he was surprised to see them there. "What? Oh, yeah, but I'm not sure I believe it. It's just too...easy."_

_"What?"_

_He got up from the chair and began to explain himself. "Well, I started thinking of what Castle always used to say right after he started with us...'there's always a story.' So I got to thinking about the name thing. I mean, what kind of psycho goes around killing people with a certain name, right? Well, some do, I guess. Obviously." He bobbed his head toward the murder boards._

_"Yeah, psychos are like that, kinda by definition, right? So anyway..." Esposito prompted._

_"So anyway, I'm thinking this psycho is smart. I mean, who picks a name but then looks for the same name in different languages? Huh? I mean, only Castle picked up on that one, and you know his brain works a little differently than everyone else's."_

_"You got that right," Kate said with a bit of a smile. And then, just that quick mention of him and how he always thought of things a little differently, how they built theory together...she felt that little pang of missing him again. It still hit her at the most unexpected of times, like now, when she was trying to listen to her coworker build a theory of his own. So she squashed that lonely feeling down inside of her and tried to concentrate on what Ryan was still saying._

_"...started thinking that maybe there's something with the rest of the names. I mean if the guy targets the first names, why not look at the last names too."_

_When Ryan didn't say anything for a moment, Esposito asked impatiently, "And...?"_

_Ryan shook his head. "Sorry. I still...it's just too easy."_

_"Let us be the judge of that, Ryan. What is it?" Beckett asked._

_He got up again and pointed to the board. "Okay, you know when you're in elementary school and they have you make a poster where you have to use each letter of your name to find a word that describes you? Wasn't so bad for me with just five letters, but my cousin Mary Elizabeth...man, she was mad. And the nuns wouldn't let her just use 'Mary.' She got so mad at her parents for giving her a name that long that she wouldn't talk to them for a week."_

_"Dude..." Esposito said, warning him to get to the point._

_"So I just started looking at the John Vics' last names. Look at the first initial of them, in order. Well, specifically the first six. Here, I'll write them out." He uncapped the marker and started with the first victim, writing down each of the initial letters in the last name as he said each last name, making a line of letters that looked like, 'ICHAEL'._

_When he was done writing, he turned around. "Do you see it?"  
><em>

_"The sick bastard is spelling something. Another name," Esposito said, voicing what he and Beckett both saw now._

_"Michael. In the first part, he's spelling 'Michael'. But we don't have a victim with a last name that starts with the letter 'M'," Ryan agreed._

_"No, we do," Beckett countered, a grim look on her face. "We just haven't found him yet."_

_o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o_

_The first John Vic that they'd tied to the case was John Inverson. So assuming that their psycho killed in letter order, they requested all of the death records starting the day before John Inverson's death and went backward. They found that lot of people died, but they thought that because they were looking for any variation of the name 'John,' male or female, last name starting with the letter 'M', all of those criteria would help to narrow down the search. But there were still quite a few death records to go through, and even though some of them appeared to be accidental or natural, they realized they still had to check more deeply into all of them in case it turned out to be a situation like Nowatowski's...a supposed 'accident' that really wasn't._

_And they got more puzzled as they went through more death records, finding no viable candidates for their victim with a last name presumably starting with the letter 'M'. They were getting farther and farther away from the date of Iverson's death, which made it even more puzzling as all of the other individual cases had been no more that a couple of weeks apart._

_But finally, a full ten months before Iverson's death, they finally found the report, not from Manhattan but from the Bronx, citing the homicide of one John MacGuinness. _

_Mr. MacGuinness' autopsy report was quite the horror show of torture finally resulting in death. He had ligature marks around his neck, small burns on his extremities, and he was bruised and bloodied, looking like he'd also been used as a punching bag. Although the killer apparently tried to kill the man in as many ways as he could, MacGuinness' ultimate cause of death, however, was the knife wound in his back, with the knife, handle wiped clean, still lodged there when he was found. And the case had gone cold._

_And of course, once they went over to the Bronx to obtain the case file, they zeroed in on the crime scene photos._

_And they found the bloody fingerprint. It was there, on one of the pages of a newspaper that was strewn haphazardly around where the body was found. _

_So they had the person who was apparently the first victim of their psycho John-killer. But what was so special about him? _Was_ there anything special about him?_

_And why did their John-killer wait ten months before starting the rest of his killing rampage?_

_And who was the 'Michael' that the killer started to spell with the last names?_

_o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o_

When Beckett was thinking about how the case had progressed, Castle was doing some reminiscing of his own, thinking about when Alexis had visited him in San Francisco a little over two weeks into his tour. It was so wonderful to see his little girl again, and seeing her walking through the security checkpoint at the airport almost felt like coming home. Almost. He had a few committments, of course, but they spent a lot of time seeing the sights too. After having worked with Beckett and the NYPD for a few years by that point, he really wanted to visit Alcatraz again. He had Alexis take a picture of him in one of the dingy cells with a sad look on his face, and he sent the picture to Beckett, hoping it would give her a smile in the middle of this case that he knew was wearing her down. He didn't expect a prompt reply, but he got one. It was a text, simple and straightforward, telling him to behave himself and try not to anything stupid. Try, she said, really try. She went on to say that she was busy with the case and couldn't bail him out, so he was on his own. He read between the lines and knew that was just more of her giving him a hard time, just this time through a text message. It was the way they were with each other; it was familiar, and it was 'them', even though they weren't physically together. And that gave him a little grin at the time, but the text message that came through from her about four minutes later put a full-blown smile on his face that didn't go away for a few hours.

It said simply, "Miss you. Lots."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Of course, his thoughts about Alexis' visit and the sightseeing also conjured up visions of the conversation he had with his daughter later that night back at his hotel.

_"So...Dad."_

_His head whipped around to look at her. "Uh, oh. I know that tone. What do you want?"_

_"What makes you think I want something?"_

_"Because you usually only start conversations like that when you want something. What is it? It's that boutique that we passed, isn't it? You want some insanely expensive trendy accessory from that boutique, don't you? Okay, how much is it going to cost me?"_

_"Now, Dad," she said, putting her hand on his shoulder and looking at him sternly, "you shouldn't be so suspicious." This time he gave her the look, telling her silently that he didn't buy her innocence. "Fine, then. If you want to buy me something from the boutique, I certainly wouldn't object. But I was actually thinking that you need a bit of an...accessory yourself."_

_"Me?"_

_"Yes," she said smugly. "I was thinking you need some arm candy. For a diversion on this trip, after I'm gone. It's a looooonnng trip, you know. You need some company." And there was a certain gleam in her eye, one that was a little disconcerting to the father part of him._

_His eyes got big as he registered what his daughter was saying. But she couldn't be suggesting... "Alexis," he said lowly, "I know I haven't always led the most...hell, I'm no monk, and I know that you know that, but are you...are you trying to set me up with someone?" He tried to put it as blandly as possible, but the thought that his daughter was telling him to go find a woman and have a fling, well, it was unsettling to say the least. "I mean, Kate and I are together now and I'm not looking-"_

_Then Alexis realized that her dad thought that..."Oh, God, no! Dad! That's creepy! No!" She gave a visible shudder. "No! Okay, just get that thought out of your head right now!" she told him sternly._

_Whew, he thought. That was uncomfortable. "But then what...?"_

_"Dad, I was _talking_ about Detective Beckett. Kate."_

_"Oh. You said 'arm candy' and I thought you meant some...never mind. I just don't think of Kate when I think of 'arm candy'. Arm candy is brainless and...Kate is NOT arm candy," he finished resolutely. _

_"I know." Alexis wanted to smile at his father's defense of his somewhat-new girlfriend. It was sweet. "I just meant that she's...you know, really pretty, and she dresses nicely, and...oh, you know." She threw her arms up in the air. "Come on, Dad. You miss her. I saw you guys during that first Skype call at home. And then you got that text from her hours ago and you haven't stopped grinning since. I mean, if you smile any more, your face is probably going to get stuck like that and you'll end up looking like the Joker from Batman." _

_"I was...well, it's always nice to hear from her." He tried to downplay his reaction, but he almost felt like grinning again when he thought about the text._

_Alexis rolled her eyes at him, a habit she seemed to have picked up since Kate had become more of a fixture in their personal lives. "From the looks of that grin, it's more than just 'nice'. Dad, she IS going to come out to visit you sometime, right?"_

_And just then, the grin dropped off his face, and he told her, "Honey, it's...complicated."_

_"How complicated can it be? You both miss each other, there are planes that fly all over, she hops on one of those planes and visits you for a few days."_

_He grasped at the most plausible excuse. "She's in the middle of a case. A really big case."_

_"But Dad, you're going to be gone for at least another month. I'm not a cop, but I know none of your cases take that long to solve. You guys are all too good," she told him, in the hopes that the compliment would distract him just a bit._

_"Yes, well..."_

_"Dad, you _did_ ask her to visit you, right?"_

_"Well, not exactly." He saw the exasperated look on his daughter's face. "Look, pumpkin, when I said things were complicated, I wasn't kidding. Kate needs to kind of ease into things slowly. Remember, she met me and the only image she had of me was the press image that Paula concocted of the playboy. And let's just say that she wasn't impressed. Now, for the most part, she knows now that's not really me, but sometimes, she still has some doubts. So I just didn't want to assume or expect that she'd be coming to visit me, because I knew she'd probably overthink it and it would seem to her like she was a groupie following me around like that."_

_"But how could she think that? You guys have been together for a while now. She knows she's not a groupie and you're not a playboy, at least not like some of the society columns make you out to be."_

_"Sweetie, you know how it is when you haven't seen a friend in a while. Remember when Paige went away with her parents for the whole summer a few years ago? You couldn't wait to see her again, but then it was kind of awkward when you did see each other again."_

_"We had so much to talk about but neither of us knew where to start."_

_"And you were just a little bit uncomfortable with each other because you hadn't seen each other in so long."_

_"Yeah...I guess."_

_"So I know that I have to respect that...her need for independence, or whatever. I can't expect her to come running off to visit me just because I happen to be away from home for a while. I did tell her that she'd be welcome and I'd love to see her, but I didn't expect her to drop everything and follow me around. She has a job, and a life of her own."_

_"Yeah, that's what she said."_

_Castle was surprised at his daughter's words. "What? You talked about this with her?" He'd made a resolution that he wasn't going to ask her to visit him; he wasn't going to pressure her in the least. He let her know that he'd be happy if she did want to visit, but that was all he did. But now...if Alexis had talked to her about it, then he wanted to know what she'd said!_

_"Yeah. She said she had her job, and kind of hemmed and hawed around the question."_

_"When?"_

_"When what?" Alexis asked, confused._

_"When did you talk to her about it?"_

_"Uh...before you left? Yeah, when she stayed that night and she made pancakes the next morning."_

_"What did she say?" He suddenly had to know exactly what she said, because although he wasn't going to ask Kate, if Alexis did, that was another thing entirely. And if Alexis was the one to ask, then that couldn't possibly count as him pressuring her, right?_

_"She..." Alexis tried to think back to the exact words of the conversation. "I asked her if she'd be visiting you, and she looked a little...shocked, I guess, like the thought hadn't really crossed her mind. And then she said that you'd be busy, but I told her not _that_ busy, and then she said she had her job. And then I decided to leave it alone because she looked kind of uncomfortable. It was kind of weird at the time and I wondered about it. I mean, I thought both of you would have just automatically started to plan a few times when she could fly out and catch up with you. But now, after what you said, I kind of understand her reaction a little bit more."_

_"She didn't seem like she liked the idea, huh?" his voice was heavier as he said the words, indicating his disappointment._

_Alexis looked at her father, and she was kind of sorry she'd said anything. She could see now that he really did want Kate to visit him, and he'd gotten his hopes up a little bit when she was talking. But now, after what she said, she'd kind of burst his bubble._

_"Sorry, Dad." She reached around and patted his back in a comforting little gesture. "You miss her, huh?"_

_"Yeah, I do," he admitted. Then, just in case she took it wrong, he tried to clarify. "I mean, I love it that you're here, pumpkin! I-"_

_She interrupted him. "I get it, Dad. Don't worry." Logically, she knew her father wouldn't be single forever. But she always hoped that he'd find someone normal; someone who wasn't a two-faced bitch who was just after him for his money or social status. And she meant what she'd said to her Grams one time: Kate was a definite improvement over a lot of the women that he'd dated. So she also meant what she told her Dad just now; she did get it. She, Alexis, was his daughter, not his girlfriend. And it was okay with her if he missed that girlfriend. It was actually kind of sweet._

_He visibly relaxed at her reassurance, but he was still disappointed nonetheless. Like Alexis had noticed, he also realized that he'd gotten his hopes up in that span of a few seconds when Alexis had said she'd talked to Kate about visiting him, and then his hopes had been squashed when he heard what Kate had said about it. But he still had his 'Miss you' text, and that was something. So he tried to put on a happy face as he asked her, "So where do you want to go for dinner tonight?"_

And Castle didn't know it then, but it was at that point that his daughter started plotting. Luckily for him, she wasn't plotting against him, but she began plotting just the same. And when it came to plotting and planning things, Alexis had, of course, learned from the best.

_And as he went through the dinner options, Alexis' mind started wandering. She latched onto one of the dinner options and excused herself to the bathroom to get ready to go out, but she really wanted a few minutes to herself to think. _

_Her Dad and Kate. She was glad they'd finally gotten together, simply because Kate made her Dad happy. And she did provide somewhat of a counter-balance for her Dad, especially when he got into Daddy-bear mode. And that was definitely a good thing for her. But yeah, Kate made him happy; just look at when he'd gotten that text today...he really couldn't stop smiling. But this business about Kate not coming to see him...well, something had to give with that one. And she knew, with her Dad's schedule, that it couldn't be him. So somehow, she had to find a way to make Kate come out to visit her Dad. She got her phone out of her pocket and started to look at the his itinerary that she had saved in the calendar app. She'd planned to see him twice, but he still had a lot of other free time outside of his scheduled committments, and he could easily fit in a visit from the Detective. _

_And it wasn't like Kate didn't miss her Dad too; she could tell that much from the Skype calls in their loft. During that first one, it was almost like they'd forgotten she was there when they got caught up in their conversation, volleying the comments back and forth like they always did._

_Her dad was gone, traveling, for at least another month. He missed Kate. Kate missed him. They needed to see each other, more than just on a Skype call. He couldn't come back home. So the only course of action left was that Kate had to go visit him. And she set out to figure out if there was some way that she could help to make that happen._

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><p><em><strong>There you go! Sorry for there not being that muck Casketty stuff, but that'll come. And sorry for the LONG flashbacks. Just trying to set the stage a bit more. The flashbacks are almost done...don't worry.<strong>_

_**Thoughts?**_


	27. Chapter 27

_**Yes, it's another chapter, only two days after the last one! I was writing like mad today, and I'm glad I got it done in time to publish it on a Castle Monday (even though it's a rerun in the US). It seems that people really like to read Castle stories on Mondays. :)**_

_**Got a little weird with this one. Strange things happen on book tours, you know. At least they do in my imagination. And Kate's working way too hard on this case, you know, so she needs a little break.**_

_**Disclaimer: Yeah, I wish.**_

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><p>Alexis came home from her trip to visit her father, and she was met at the airport by a certain Detective. Unbeknownst to Kate, it was actually part of the master plan that Alexis had dreamed up while in California to try to eventually get Kate to agree to visit her Dad. So she called and asked Kate if she would possibly have time to pick her up, trying to remain somewhat mysterious, but then eventually 'slipping' and admitting that her Dad had gotten Kate a present and she really wanted to give it to Kate in person, right away. And of course, subtley suggesting that her Dad get Kate a present was part of her master plan too, although her Dad hadn't needed very much convincing to buy his girlfriend a present.<p>

After Alexis had suggested using the cell phone lot to expedite things, Kate relented and agreed to pick her up. They found each other without too much hassle, and the energetic teenager bounded into the car, stowing her bag quickly in the back seat before she got herself in the front. She gave Kate a quick hug amidst a barrage of expressions of thanks for fetching her.

The drive to the loft was actually pretty good, traffic-wise, and Alexis had pleaded with Kate and had convinced her to come up so she could get her present. "You've already come this far, and it's why you came to get me anyway, right? So it would be silly if you left now. Come on, Kate...s'il vous plait?"

Leave it to this Castle child to convince her to stay with a French 'please'.

"Fine, but only for a couple of minutes. It wasn't a problem to pick you up, so I don't want you to think that, but I really should get back to the station."

"How is the case going, anyway?" Alexis asked when they got all of her bags into the loft.

"We're making headway, but definitely not as quickly as we'd like to. Ryan found a link with some of the last names, to go together with the first name link that your dad found. So we're trying to look into that now."

Alexis had been bustling around the loft, and now she turned on the TV. When it started up, she said innocently, "Oh, look...Dad's online. Let's see if we can connect with him."

"Oh, no, Alexis," Kate tried to protest when she realized what the girl was up to. She didn't want to 'see' Castle now...she knew she was a mess. She didn't sleep well the night before, she'd been late to work so her grooming was rushed at best, she was, of course, frustrated with the case, and she'd had way too many cups of coffee already. She was already on edge, and she'd agreed to pick up Alexis partly because she needed a change of scenery and she thought it would help her mood and outlook today. "I don't look...I can call him later. No, really, I don't want him to-" she'd just finished saying when Castle's face appeared on the screen.

"What don't you want me to do, Kate?" Castle asked from the screen. At her puzzled, open mouthed stare, he said, "I heard the audio a second or two before I saw the video." Then his eyes shifted to his daughter, "Hi, pumpkin. Glad you made it back okay. So, anyway, Kate, what was it that I shouldn't be doing?"

But seeing his smiling face, the face that she hadn't seen enough lately, wiped away some of her mood just like that. "Looking at me," she told him bluntly.

"Why not?" he asked her, a puzzled look on his two-dimensional face.

"Because I look like crap, Castle. Crap warmed over a few too many times."

He thought she looked wonderful. Wonderful, beautiful, amazing, but stressed and tired too. And now embarrassed, as she ran her hands through her hair and walked around the room.

"Kate, you do not. But you probably won't believe me anyway. It's just good to see you, even though..." he trailed off when he realized he was about to say: that it was good to see her, even though he wished she was there with him so he could see her in person. All of this talk from Alexis about Kate visiting him must have gotten under his skin a bit. Hell, who was he kidding? He _knew_ it had gotten under his skin. Ever since she brought it up a few days before, it had been in the back of his mind, and then she brought it up a few more times in, he realized later, a very subtle fashion. But then yesterday, she dragged him out after his charity luncheon, saying that it was just awful that he hadn't even gotten anything for Kate. She'd given him quite the glare when she'd offhandedly asked how many times he'd sent flowers to Kate, and he had to sheepishly admit that he hadn't sent any. No flowers, no gifts...he still remembered her terse, admonishing comment of "Dad, I thought I'd raised you better than that!"

"Even though what, Castle?" Kate said, bringing him out of his haze of thoughts. He focused on her again, and she was looking at him quizzically, if not a little challengingly, as if she expected him to put his foot in his mouth and make some less-than-flattering comment about her appearance or stress level.

So he was rather proud of himself when he said smoothly, "Even though you haven't opened your presents yet."

She registered some surprise at his words, even though she tried to hide it. "Presents? As in, plural?" She turned to face Alexis. "Alexis, you just said one." She turned back to the screen after Alexis gave her a shrug with a little smile. "Rick, why did you get me something? You don't have to get me presents." She looked almost embarrassed, now at the thought of him getting her something.

"Because I wanted to. And I realized that I've never gotten you anything. That's really bad. I mean, how long have we been dating now?"

"You took me to a broadway play, Castle. And you let me live with you, for goodness sakes. That's plenty. You don't have to buy me things. I'm not a-" she stopped before she could finish her sentence, suddenly mindful of the teenager in the room.

"That's okay, Kate," Alexis interjected, hoping to put the detective at ease a bit. "I have an idea of what you were going to say, and believe me, I've heard the word before. But don't worry, it doesn't apply here." She stepped over to Kate, and then Kate realized that she had a fairly good-sized box in her hands, and was holding it out to her. "Go on, take it. Sit down and open it."

Kate did as she was told, trying to steel herself in case she didn't like whatever was inside. She hated this type of thing, when someone thought they had a great idea for a present, and it turned out to be hideous or impractical. And then she had to fake delight, because while she appreciated the thought, the gift usually ended up not being to her taste but she still didn't want to hurt the feelings of whoever gave it to her. But when she cautiously opened the box, the sight that greeted her made her mouth drop open in a little 'o'. She felt just like she had when she'd opened the box with that red dress for the MADT benefit all of those years ago. She stared. And then she couldn't help but reach in and take out the exquisite leather jacket and hold it up. "Castle..." was all she could manage to get out.

"Do you like it?" Alexis asked, and only then did Kate look up, her eyes finding Alexis' first and then being drawn over to the TV where Castle watched her intently, also waiting for her reaction.

"I..." The jacket was beautiful, so soft it felt sinful, in a gorgeous cream color. She could tell it was expensive, and way out of her budget. "Castle, it's beautiful, really, but it's too much."

"It was on sale," Alexis blurted out, obviously thinking that she was going to refuse it or something. "I helped him pick it out. You wear a lot of leather jackets, and we thought... He wanted to get you the red one because he said he likes you in red, but I thought this would go with more," she finished, somewhat nervously. "But if you don't like it, we can..."

She turned to the girl again. "No, no, Alexis. I DO like it. It's just not my birthday or anything, and you and your Dad were already so accommodating with my ankle, and when I couldn't stay in my apartment, and-"

This time it was Castle who spoke up. "Come on, Kate. We just wanted to get you a little present. It's nothing major, really. This is the Silicon Valley out here, so I could have gotten you a computer or some other insanely expensive electronic gadget, but we thought this was more practical for you. So just say thanks and stop stressing, and open your next present, okay?"

"Next present?"

"Well, Alexis did already pluralize the word present, which you did catch. So yeah, there's another one. But I guarantee you that you won't find a problem with this one."

Alexis handed her another box and she had to laugh when she opened it. Oh, it felt good to laugh. And then she had to roll her eyes because inside the box was one of the the Nikki Heat promotional t-shirts that he'd told her about before he left, and sure enough, he'd also signed it.

"Really, Castle?"

"Of course," he said smugly. "Hey, do you know how much that thing could go for on eBay right now? They're a hot commodity. Each event only gets a certain amount. Two little old ladies actually got into a fight over one yesterday at the charity luncheon in Monterey. I finally had to sign...oh, uh, did Alexis tell you how nice the weather has been out here?"

She almost did a double-take at the abrupt change in topic. But then she zeroed in on one thing in particular. "Had to sign exactly _what_, Castle?"

"You just _had_ to go and open your mouth, didn't you, Dad?" Alexis chastised, with a glare at the TV.

He started to say something, and then Kate pointed at the TV. "_You _be quiet. I want to hear this from the kid."

Even though the story was somewhat embarrassing, she was still just a little bit giddy-inside, of course-at how Kate seemed kind of jealous. But it was a good type of jealous, that she could see from how she put her Dad in his place and told him to be quiet. "So there was this luncheon thing with a retired ladies group. They're all like...sixties to eighties maybe? So Dad read a little bit, answered some questions, and man! Some of those ladies were pretty bold. Personal questions! I mean, I'm used to Grams being a little off-the-wall, but this was a whole group of them! And they were hitting some of the local wines kind of heavy, if you know what I mean. So they always have some of the t-shirts, and for this thing they had a raffle for the shirts. One lady won the t-shirt, but then her friend stood up and said no, she'd given her the raffle ticket so the shirt should be hers. And they started to yell at each other."

"And you were there?"

"Yeah, I tagged along and I was in the back with Paula. Dad and I were going to the aquarium in Monterey afterwards, so I just did some reading and texted Paige and stuff like that. But then these ladies...man. So Paula tries to intervene and tells the one lady that Dad can sign something else if she has a hankie or something with her."

"Let me guess...she had something more up-close-and-personal in mind than a hankie?" Kate said sarcastically, having a feeling about where this was going, despite all of Castle's previous protestations about not signing chests or being set up by Paula.

"Oh, yeah. So the lady gets this weird look on her face, kind of evil-like...it was scary, you know? And she starts unbuttoning her blouse..."

Kate's eyes got a little wider, not just from the story, but from the fact that Alexis was telling it. She sneaked a glance at Castle, who was looking a little bit green and tense. "No comment, Castle?"

"You told me to be quiet. But I will say that gravity is very cruel to some people." And then he looked away and began whistling innocently.

Kate turned back to Alexis. "He's not kidding," she said, somewhat under her breath. "Luckily she stopped before she got the whole thing unbuttoned, mostly, I think, from her friends yelling 'Mavis, just what the _hell_ do you think you're doing?' And then Mavis pulled her blouse off one shoulder and told Dad, 'Get over here, young man. You're gonna sign the straps of my boulder-holder, here. And then I can say that Richard Castle is holding up my boobs.' And then she gave a nasty look to her friend and told her 'Lillian, you can just have that t-shirt if you want it so damn bad. Because I'm gonna have a Richard Castle bra now.' God, Kate, you should have seen the look on Dad's face." Alexis could barely keep a straight face as she finished relating the story.

"She...Alexis are you making this up?" The girl vehemently shook her head. "So you mean to tell me that some old woman partially stripped off her shirt so your dad could sign her bra straps?"

"Uh huh. Mavis."

"So your Dad..."

"Yeah. He's holding up Mavis' boobs. Well, by proxy, I guess. Assuming she's still wearing the bra."

Kate just shook her head and looked at the screen. "Castle, I don't know what to say."

"Hey, I didn't sign any chests! It was only a couple of shoulders."

"And then," Alexis said with a smirk on her face, "She kissed him. And for the record, Dad just does _not_ look good in that shade of red lipstick. And it took us _forever_ to get it off of his lips."

She could see him glaring in their direction. "Okay, that's it. Those clothes that I bought you, Alexis, where we bought Kate's jacket? Send them back. I'm returning them," he told her with a pout.

"Did Mavis slip you her number too, Castle?" Kate asked cheekily.

"No!"

"Actually, Mavis and Lillian started fighting even more after she kissed Dad, and then the security guys came and hauled them out. And really, if you ask me, I think they should have resisted the security guys a little more...one of them was _really_ cute and buff," Alexis remembered. "Much better than Dad."

"Okay, that's it," Castle said, his voice booming indignantly. "Send _everything_ back here. All of it. Even the fish pillow from the aquarium."

"Chill, Dad. I don't think Kate's really worried about competition from Mavis. Too bad she wasn't there, though. I bet good ol' Mavis wouldn't have tried anything if Kate had been around." And then Alexis smiled innocently before she hopped up and said, "You two have a nice long-distance chat. I told Paige I'd call her when I got home, so I'll be up in my room." And with that, she was out of the room.

Kate just sat there for a moment, trying to not respond outwardly to Alexis' offhand comment about how it was too bad she wasn't there. Because the more she got into this case, the more she thought about how nice it would be to just escape, and how nice it would be to see Rick in person again. But she new she couldn't do that, not while there was a murderer still on the loose. So she just shook her head, saying softly, "Wait until Ryan and Esposito hear about this."

But despite her soft tone, he apparently heard her. "No, Kate. Don't tell them! My reputation...they're going to start making cracks about me being pimped out for senior citizen's groups and stuff like that."

However, her mention of Ryan and Esposito brought the case back to her mind, and she jumped up. "Sorry, Castle, but I have to get back. The case..."

"No, Kate, come on. Just stay for another minute and catch me up. I know you've probably found out some more in the last few days. Come on, please? We hardly talked at all while Alexis was with me. Talk to me now. Tell me how it's going."

At his plea, she realized that the most relaxed she'd felt in the last several days was when the three of them were just sitting there talking. She didn't feel nearly as tense and wound up as she had even when she'd walked into the loft behind Alexis. But that tension came flowing back as soon as she thought about going back to the station. But still, it was her job, and there was a murderer out there. "Castle, I really have to get back. We need to find a break in this case, I mean, even after what Ryan found-"

"What?" he interrupted excitedly. "What did Ryan find?" He could see her hesitation, but finally she sat down again. Well, actually, she flopped down, bonelessly sinking into the couch, and he wondered how long it had been since she'd last slept decently, or even relaxed.

"A few days ago, right after Alexis flew out to see you, Ryan started thinking about the name thing that you'd figured out. So he looked at the last names of all of the vics, and he found a pattern with the initial letters of the last names." As soon as she said it, she could see him typing on his computer, probably opening the document with his notes.

"What's the pattern? No, wait...Oh, my gosh! They spell...'Michael', only without the M. You don't have an 'M' vic."

"We do now."

"That's so cool..." he said, thinking of the pattern that Ryan had found, and the other victim that they'd tied to the case, presumably from the pattern, but then he realized what he said. "In a homocidal, demented, psychopathic way, I mean."

"Yeah." She had her eyes closed and was massaging her forehead as she laid on his couch.

"So who's the M?"

"John MacGuinness. Weird thing is that he was killed ten months before the second vic."

"Ten months, long time to go between victims, especially when the others are spaced so closely together."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"You sure he's the one?"

"Uh huh. There just weren't any others-we ruled them all out-and his scene had the bloody fingerprint. And that guy...the killer really took some time with him. Burns, beating, you name it."

Castle didn't say anything

Then she sat up and ran her hands through her hair. "Castle, I really have to get back-"

"MacGuinness...spelled how, Kate?" The tone of his voice was now steely, serious, but it also had just a hint of excitement to it.

She spelled the name for him. "But Castle-"

"Oh." He sounded oddly disappointed, but then he went on to say, "No, wait...it _does_ fit!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Kate, go over to the counter by the phone and grab that pad of paper." She did. "Now write down the letters of the remaining last initials, after you get done with the 'Michael' ones. Do you remember them in order? If not, I can read-"

"I remember them, Castle. I've been eating, sleeping and breathing this case for three weeks. I remember them," she told him somewhat testily.

She wrote them down on the paper as he said the names anyway. "Miller, Collins, Ingersoll, Nellis, and then the latest two were Nowatowski and Emerson, right?"

"Yes," she said wearily. "But we've been over the rest of the letters. They don't spell anything. We tried abbreviations in the computer, acronyms, you name it. Nothing popped."

"But what if it's not all there?"

She sighed. "Castle, come on, just say whatever it is you want to say."

"Look at the letters: M, C, I, N, N E. If you have to pronounce those letters, just those letters, how would you _say_ them together?"

She tested out the pronunciation, and then her eyes flew from the pad to the screen where he was watching her. "Which one of your vics does that sound like?" he asked her knowingly.

MacGuinness. John MacGuinness.

"But we don't have enough letters for that," she said quickly, playing the devil's advocate.

"You didn't have enough letters for 'Michael' either, but you found the missing one. And the fingerprint."

"Rick," she almost groaned, "that means we've got even more victims that we haven't found yet."

"Yeah." He let the silence hang for a moment before he continued. "You know, it makes sense. There could be a reason why he was the first one. You said he was in worse shape than anyone else, right? Kate, he's probably the key. John MacGuinness."

"You think he was the catalyst for all of those other murders? But what about 'Michael'? The first group of victims' names spell out 'Michael'."

"I don't know."

"And if MacGuinness is dead, then why did the killer need to keep killing?"

"I don't know," he said again. And that summed it up for all of them. Clues. More clues. But they just didn't know how they all fit together.

"Castle, I really have to go. Especially now."

"I know." They stared at each other for a moment. "I really miss you, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." She looked like she wanted to say more, but she just ran her hand through her hair. "Rick, thanks for the jacket. It really is beautiful. And, you know, thanks for the t-shirt too."

"You know, I signed it. The t-shirt. But I put another little message on it, just for you. But don't look at it until you go home, okay?"

He was being cryptic, and the stress of the case was starting to fill her back up, so she didn't have the time or inclination to decipher anything right now. So she filed his words away to take out later, when she had a moment to think of something not related to the case.

"Okay. I won't have time anyway."

"Will you let me know about MacGuinness? If you find anything?"

He sounded so hopeful, and just a little lonely, and she couldn't resist giving him a little smile. "Yeah. We'll let you know."

"No, _you._ I want to talk to _you._"

"You just _have_ to be in on everything, don't you?" she chided with a little smile.

He shrugged. "There's that, and then there's just the fact that if I can get an excuse to talk to you, I'll take it."

She looked at him for a long moment. "I'll call you. Promise. But I have to go. Now." She picked up the remote. "Bye, Rick."

He blew her a kiss. "Bye, honey."

And the last look that he had was of her rolling her eyes at him as she pointed the remote at the TV and disconnected the session.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

On the way through Castle's lobby, she placed a call to Ryan to explain to him about Castle's theory about MacGuinness. When she saw Rafi, one of the doormen she got to know when she was staying with Rick, she smiled warmly at him and gave him a little wave. She would have loved to stop and chat for a while with the young man, but she had to get back to the precinct. She'd been gone long enough, and there was still a murderer to find. But at last now, if Castle's theory panned out, they might be just a little closer.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Alexis' machinations were kind of subtle in this chapter because we focused on other things, namely another clue to the case. But never fear, she's still planning and plotting.<strong>_

_**Milestone time...with this chapter, I believe this story is now longer than Blizzard in total word count. **_

_**Hope you enjoyed the chapter. **_


	28. Chapter 28

_**No, you don't have to blink or go to the eye doctor. Yes, 'Melting Slowly' is back and this is a new chapter! It's been a long break, I know. If any of you have read my tumblr page, or the author's note in one of my other stories, you'll know that I took a break from this story for a while to work on some other things. I didn't feel like people were 'into' the story and I started to get discouraged, so I decided to just focus my efforts elsewhere for a while until I could get my mojo back.**_

_**So I'm back to try again, due in large part to quite a few people who have messaged me over the last month or two, asking about this story. So from the bottom of my heart, if you're one of those people, I thank you for your interest, for your encouragement and for your kind words. They do truly mean a lot to me.**_

_**Once again, I will say that I know nothing about the publishing business or book signings. Or who sponsors book signings, or anything like that. So I ask you to just go with it, and try not to analyze that part of it too much. :)**_

_**Disclaimer: No, I don't have any rights to Castle. Darn. I wouldn't even care about ownership rights...I'd just like to hang out on the set for a few days! How cool would that be?**_

* * *

><p>By the time she got back to the precinct, Ryan and Esposito had started the background check on their first victim, John MacGuinness, as she'd requested over the phone after she left Castle's loft. She walked off the elevator, and when they saw her, Esposito wasted no time in standing up and walking over to her as she entered the bullpen.<p>

"Find anything?"

"Ryan's trying to track down the guy's parole officer now." He gestured over toward where Ryan was obviously on the phone.

"Parole officer?" She raised an interested eyebrow. "Ah, so he was apparently a pillar of the community, huh?" she asked sarcastically.

"Totally."

"What was his time for?"

"Breaking and breaking and entering."

"Come again?"

"Breaking bones...live-in girlfriend. Apparently he had a rather violent streak that she couldn't escape." She cringed while Esposito went on. "And he had a few B&E charges right after that."

"Nice guy."

"Yeah, but that's not the most interesting part."

Beckett noticed that he almost seemed like he had a gleam in his eye when he told her that. They'd all been working this case for weeks with clues that kept piling up, but still added up to basically nothing in terms of actually being a lead toward actually catching the killer. So if something was gleam-worthy, then damn it...she wanted to know about it! "What is it, Espo? I know you know something. What did you find out?"

"Our stellar Mr. MacGuinness had an alias of sorts. It was in a couple of his arrest reports. Actually added up to more charges for the guy, eventually."

"More charges?"

"Additional assault charges. 'Course the guy was drunk at the time, but still."

"Esposito," she started, running a hand through her hair. "You're not making sense. How would using an alias get him charged with assault?"

The smug look on his face gave her the inkling that she was about to find out the reason for the eye-gleam. "It would when the booking officer determined that the alias wasn't really his full legal name, and then did use the guy's real name, and MacGuinness started beating the crap out of him."

"What?"

"Yeah, I know. Apparently the guy took his alias seriously. Took three cops to pull the idiot off of the uni."

"All for an alias. What the hell is so special about an alias?" She shook her head, and then she recalled something unusual that Esposito had said. "Wait...you said the alias wasn't really his full legal name. So what was the alias? Was it part of his name?"

"Caught that, huh?" Esposito said, the gleam in his eye at full force now. "Puts things in some weird kind of perspective. Take a look." He handed her a printout of an old arrest report, along with a mugshot and MacGuinness' rap sheet.

She looked from one page to the other, and slowly, as she began to comprehend what she was seeing, she started shaking her head. "No way. No _freaking_ way..."

She looked up at Esposito for confirmation, and he just nodded at her, letting her know she was on the right track. "You can see it right there," he finally told her as she skimmed more of the reports, her mouth agape.

Finally, she looked back up at him. "His so-called alias is just his middle name? But God, it all fits, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, not very original, but at this point, I don't care. I'm not grading the psycho with originality points."

"John _Michael _MacGuinness. AKA Mike MacGuinness. Castle was right...he is the key." She looked back at the reports, not quite believing that they finally had a break. A real, honest-to-goodness lead. And then, remembering that it was all because of Castle, she muttered, "God, Castle, if you were here, I'd kiss you."

She didn't even realize what she'd said until she looked at Esposito again, ready to start talking about their next move, and she caught his slightly wide eyed look. It was different than his 'I-found-a-break-in-the-case' eye-gleam, and she wondered what was wrong with him until she realized that he must have heard her offhand comment about kissing Castle. Crap.

She gave him a mini-glare before telling him sternly, "It's an _expression_, Esposito." She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "But it looks like we finally have a lead."

"Yeah. Go figure," he said as they walked back toward Ryan's desk. He was just hanging up the phone.

"Got anything for us?"

"Hopkins, the parole officer,is on vacation for the next couple of days. But I did find another report on good ol' Mike that never did make it into his original name. Nothing major; just a bar fight and he was one of the many involved and arrested. Probably why it got entered under the wrong name and never went further. And then there's this," he said, gesturing to the computer screen with one hand as he hit a few keys with the other. "This is the crime scene report for a Mr. John Anderson."

"Anderson...A. He fits in somewhere, doesn't he? He's...wait. He's between Miller and Collins, isn't he?" Beckett asked, hoping the answer would be no to keep their death toll from rising, but still knowing it would be a yes.

"Bingo. Mr. Anderson was killed three days before Collins."

"So," she surmised, sitting in her chair and tapping five left fingertips against five right fingertips as she thought about the situation. "John Michael MacGuinness was not a nice man nor was he an upstanding member of our fair community. He liked beating people up, and he had a penchant for petty crime. In addition, at least according to the uni who once had the unpleasant task of booking him, he likes to be called Mike, and goes slightly ballistic if someone uses his real name of John."

"Slightly?" Ryan asked. "Ask Officer..." he consulted one of the reports, "Foster if MacGuinness got 'slightly' mad. I bet his trip to the ER wouldn't be classified as 'slightly'."

"Whatever, Ryan." She sighed, but for once, it wasn't out of exhaustion. This clue had rejuvenated something inside of her. "The important thing is that we know this has to tie back to MacGuinness, somehow. Our creep is trying to spell his name."

"But not his entire name," Esposito reminded her. "The initial letters, at least what we've found, just spell out 'Michael' and the beginning of 'MacGuinness'."

"Someone that doesn't like MacGuinness. From his rap sheet, it sounds like there wouldn't be any shortage of people who don't like him," Esposito surmised.

"If our perp knew that MacGuinness didn't like people to use the 'John', then he had to have known the guy pretty well." Ryan said it somewhat slowly, with a thoughtful look on his face. When he looked back at the other two, they had surprised looks on their faces before snapping into action.

Pointing at him, she told him, "That's good, Ryan. That's really good. You check out family, Espo and I will check out employers, neighbors, everyone else. We're going to find out what's so important about MacGuinness that he's worth killing that many people for. And then we're going to find out who this son of a bitch really is."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

They worked, once again, late into the night. During one of her coffee runs, Kate tried to call Castle, only to get his voicemail. Belately she remembered something about a book signing followed by...a taping for a local talk show? Or maybe it was some other charity dinner. Damn. She really wanted to tell him what they'd discovered, and how his clue had been the catalyst for getting as far as they had today.

Even though she knew he'd gloat.

But he'd be gloating a few thousand miles away, so the pure annoyance force of the gloat would be toned down by the distance just a little bit. And if she had to admit it, she really didn't care about him gloating anyway. She just wanted to tallk to him.

She missed him.

She could admit that now, and she was finding that she was admitting it more and more frequently. It was true. She _did_ miss him. But she couldn't think about that now. She had coffee to drink and a case to solve.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

He normally wouldn't have called her that late, but knowing the way she was working, he risked it. He just really wanted to talk to her, even if it was just for a few minutes. He missed her. And even with the Skype session that afternoon, he still didn't feel like that was enough. Probably came from not being around her in person for the last three plus weeks, when they'd been together so much right before that. And he didn't even want to think about the missed opportunity; when he had to leave a day earlier because of Paula.

Paula.

The other reason he was missing Kate so much right now.

He heard one more ring in his ear, followed by a tired-sounding, "Aren't you supposed to be signing more bra straps or something?"

God, how did she know already? He felt a moment of panic before he realized that she was only talking about Mavis and the 'boulder holder', from the story about the senior luncheon that he went to with Alexis.

"No, the evening got...cut short. So did you get anything from the last name thing with MacGuinness?"

It was on the tip of her tongue to start telling him about the case, but even despite her fatigue, she caught something in his voice, in the abrupt way he changed the subject about his evening activities. "Castle, what happened at your...whatever thing you did tonight?"

"What makes you think something happened?"

"Come on, Castle. We're past that, aren't we? I'm tired. And I can hear it in your voice. Something happened. Some little old lady want you to sign her granny bloomers this time?" she tried to joke.

There was just silence on the other end of the phone for a long moment, followed by a big sigh. She was starting to get worried. "Castle..."

"Let's just say I came really close to having to find a new agent."

Remembering previous conversations about book tours, chest signings, overzealous fans and threats of firing said agent, she started to get a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach that had little to do with the insane amounts of coffee that she'd been consuming.

Oh, God.

But before she could say anything else, he started explaining in a fast voice. "I don't know if you'll see any pictures, but if you do, then believe me when I say that it was not how it looked."

There was another long pause, during which he could hear a long exhale from her. He didn't know that his words had caused her stomach to figuratively fall to the ground. "Castle..." she said again, but this time her voice was soft, almost vulnerable.

"I hate that I have to tell you this, but I don't want you to see something and misinterpret it. I mean, it was just a little thing, so I don't know it it'll even be picked up by the news services. But if it is, just remember, it's not what it looks like."

She closed her eyes. "Just tell me what it _does_ look like."

Now it was his turn to let out a long breath. "It looks like I'm getting up close and personal with someone's chest."

"What? Who?"

"A woman."

"Well, geez, Castle! I didn't think it would be a man!"

"It was a book signing...and the place rented the back room of the local Hooters, so there were girls in...well, yeah. You know what a lot of them wear."

"Yeah." But she had to wonder who in the hell had a book signing in a Hooters. Really?

"And so," he continued, "the group that set this up had some contest where the winner got to sit by me and be my so-called assistant while I signed the books and the promotional pictures."

"No t-shirts?"

"Not there, thank goodness. Problem with the shipment. So...anyway, she got a little...fresh. And...clingy. And then I found out that I was supposed to do dinner with her afterwards," he said with a tone of derision.

"Quite some contest," she noted dryly.

"Yeah, well I found out that the dinner wasn't really part of the contest, but then Paula started pressuring me into going anyway." Somehow, strangely enough, she found herself getting just a bit more calm the longer he talked and explained. She realized, even during the conversation, that he was trying to be honest with her, and he wasn't shying away from her questions.

"Hence the coming close to finding a new agent thing?"

"Precisely. I disappeared into the back room and we had some...words. Let's just say that I'm really quite ill right now."

"Ah. Food poisoning?"

"Honestly, I really don't know what she told people. Maybe I'm prone to migraines. I told her that I'd warned her before the tour, and that she'd better get me out of this or that was it. She actually listened to me, and I sneaked out the back and came back to the hotel. No dinner."

"So what about the chest that you got up close and personal with?"

"You would have to remember that."

"Hey, it was your confession, and you didn't confess, so I'm just prompting you along."

There was a pause, and then he finally said, "Kate? You don't seem...all that mad. Or am I just reading you wrong? Because really, nothing—"

"I'm okay, Rick," she interrupted, but she meant it. "I mean, you _are_ telling me the truth, right? It's not like I would hear a different story if Alexis had been there for this one, would I?"

"No! I mean yes! Yes, I'm telling the truth, and no, I told you everything."

"Not _everything_..." she reminded him.

"Fine! I was hoping you'd forget about that. Okay...apparently a friend of my so-called assistant was in line and was wearing a very...revealing garment. And there was a lot to reveal," he added in a low voice, before he cringed at how that sounded. Yeah, Rick, he thought. That was one of those things you should have thought, not said, especially to your girlfriend who's a few thousand miles away. But he continued, "So when it was her turn to get her autograph, she...uh...leaned over the table. A lot. And...uh, my so-called assistant made me stand up and it was obvious they expected me to sign her chest, but I tried to say no, and there was this photographer there snapping pictures, and the one girl pushed me toward her friend, and I tried to sign a photo but she threw it away and she was pointing to her...you know. And she was getting forceful, and I didn't want to make a scene, and Paula was there glaring at me, so I grabbed a photo and put it on top of her...you know, and signed it. The photo, not the...you know. So I didn't really touch anything except the photo."

She waited a moment, wondering if he was truly done with that nervous verbal barrage of an explanation.

It turned out that he wasn't. "And the photographer was a little behind the girl and uh...I don't know if you could actually see that I wasn't actually...on...her..."

"You know?" she couldn't resist finishing for him, using the same innocuous descriptor that he had.

"Kate..."

She heaved a frustrated sigh. "Castle, look. I'm tired. I'm sick of this case and not having any leads, and I'm sick of regularly getting home when some of the late-night pizza places have even closed down for the night. So...just...look, did you..." All of a sudden, she couldn't say the words that she was going to say.

"Did I what?"

Well, she started this. "Did you cheat on me? In any way, shape or form?"

"No!" She could almost feel the force of his denial through the phone. "God, Kate, that's what I was trying to tell you! Nothing happened. Now the pictures...if they... But no! I told you everything."

"Relax, Rick. I was just getting that out of the way. I believe you. So if you're telling the truth, and you are, then we're good. Okay?"

"Okay. But you're really not mad?"

"I'm mad that Paula let it get to that point, yes. But I don't want to think about her. I'm just...tired. I just wish..." Her voice trailed off.

"You wish what?"

"I wish you weren't on the other side of the country right now. I wish you were here." Her voice had gotten soft, and he knew how much it cost her to admit that, being as independent and self-reliant as she was.

"I wish I was there too," he echoed. And then, he flashed back to his conversation with his daughter. He hadn't said anything, because as he told Alexis, it was complicated. But everything was complicated, wasn't it? And then he thought, oh, why not? "You know, you could..."

But thinking about saying it, and actually saying it were two very different things, especially when he'd conditioned himself not to go there, not to mention it. But now, the proverbial cat was out of the bag.

"I could what, Rick?" she prompted softly.

He sighed. "You could always come and visit me for a few days on my tour." He closed his eyes, bracing himself for her reponse. Would she say something about looking like she was his kept woman, following him around on his tour? Or would she claim the job angle? Or would she be afraid of the press?

But he wasn't prepared for the response he did get, when she gave him a soft, simple, "Maybe."

Maybe?

She would consider it?

He knew he was gaping, but he couldn't help it, and he was glad she couldn't see him right then. She gave him a maybe!

But then she burst the 'maybe' bubble. "But Rick, I have a case. A big case, and it's not solved. I can't even think about going anywhere yet."

And then his mind settled in on that last word. Yet.

And with her 'maybe', that 'yet' sounded really, really good to him. It was some light at the end of the long tunnel of this tour.

"Well, then, let's get that case solved already, okay?" He tried to keep the excitement out of his voice, but that was hard. Because she'd said maybe. And yet.

"Tomorrow, okay? I need some sleep. And you've already helped enough for one day anyway. Save some more inspiration for tomorrow."

"Helped? What did I do? Wait...did something pan out with the name thing and the first victim?"

Oh, in her tired state, she hadn't even realized that she still hadn't told him what the clue that he'd uncovered from earlier meant in terms of their investigation. She began telling him, bringing him up-to-date on Mr. MacGuinness' criminal history and apparent love of his middle name to the point of attempting to bludgeon people who didn't use it, as well as the additional victims they'd found now that they had the initial letter clue.

Her voice had started to take on more of a sleepy quality, and he realized how tired she must be, especially when she admitted it herself. He would have loved to talk to her for hours more, but he knew she didn't need that. She needed sleep. So once when she said something that would have sounded silly coming from a four year old, he realized she'd had enough. "Kate, honey, I'm going to hang up. Go to bed, okay? I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Mmm...'kay, Rick. 'night."

"Sweet dreams, Kate. I...I miss you."

That he missed her was _not_ the sentiment that he was feeling right now. Well, it was, but he knew by now that he felt a whole lot more than just that. But he knew from past experience that it wasn't anything that he could say right now, not without running the risk of freaking her out again like he had in the past. So he just had to settle for saying that he missed her.

But still, even though he couldn't say more of what he was feeling, he felt a warm feeling wash through him when he heard her soft sleepy voice respond, "Miss you too," right before the line disconnected.

He went to sleep himself a little while later, with visions of 'maybes' and 'yets' and 'miss yous' dancing in his head.

* * *

><p><em><strong>There you go. I tried to have some progress made in the case, and also tried to have some personal moments. <strong>_

_**So let me know what you think, and if you're still into this story or not. I'd love to hear your thoughts, whatever they may be.**_

_**Thanks for reading!**_


	29. Chapter 29

_**I want to thank you all so much for your response to that last chapter! It was so wonderful to see the positive comments about it, and to hear that you liked the chapter and were happy to see the story continue. As I said, I was uncertain about continuing, but with the response to the last chapter, you've convinced me to hang in there, for at least a little while longer. It wasn't a super quick update, but this is one of the longer chapters I've done for this story.**_

_**Some shout-outs: IrrationalObsessions, you really almost make me blush with your continued glowing praise. Not sure I deserve all of that, but thank you! Chelle82, thanks for your kind words also. ThePutz913, if you were talking about it, and then the chapter popped up, I bet you did a double-take. RGoodfellow, since his trademark was signing chests, I thought Hooters would be mildly funny. And where else do you have the potential to find a lot of buxom chests? Aruro, more Ryan/Esposito in this one. Charliexedd, glad you're caught up and that you enjoyed the series (if I can call it that yet). And I'll think about the Dad thing...there may be some good opportunities for that coming up. And to everyone else that I didn't mention specifically, I still very much appreciate all of your comments, so thank you. In looking back at some of the earlier reviews/comments about Blizzard, it looks like I have a whole different group of readers now than I did then. So again, thanks for reading and sticking around and giving me some feedback. I do LOVE to hear from you!**_

_**I made some of the brownies (who remembers the brownies?) this weekend to take to a party. And I kept thinking 'wouldn't it be weird if someone said, 'oh, yeah, I read about these brownies in a story I was reading online...' Yeah, strange, I know. But this is still my 'secret life', so I think there will be some sort of cosmic shift or at least a weird weather event if my alter-ego ever collides with real life.**_

_**Several days ago, I posted something on tumblr that I thought was kind of funny, although totally unrelated to Castle. In writing this chapter, I got the idea to actually use this...thing. So now it **__**is**__**related to Castle (well, it will be after this chapter, at least in my world). After you read the chapter, you'll know what I'm talking about, and if you want to see the entire list, check out my tumblr page (xxGoogiexx). **_

_**Lastly, I just want to remind everyone of the timeline of when this storyline was started, which is mid-season 3.**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Castle. Bummer.**_

* * *

><p>"We need to find out why he picked these people, aside from the fact that they have some derivative of the name 'John'."<p>

Beckett and the guys were sitting in their 'war room', which was really the conference room that had been overtaken by the case. Now that they knew the second thing that their killer was trying to spell with the victim's names, they knew they had more victims; victims that had last names starting with the letters used to spell MacGuinness' last name. They'd spent most of the next day combing through files and looking for their missing victims, and once those were found, they started looking for commonalities in the victims or with the timeline of the killings. It was nice to report in her briefing with the mayor that they now had a more solid lead and a link to some semblance of a motive, crazy though it was. However, it was still a blow to also have to report that they'd found more victims; victims that were now identified because of the new lead with the name.

Beckett tossed her pen down on the table in front of her. "I don't like it, and I don't want to have to do it, but I think we have to start interviewing all of the victims' families about their deaths."

"Beckett, some of those were originally ruled accidental," Ryan pointed out, his meaning clear. If they start questioning the families about an accidental death, word could get out, which was what they'd been trying to avoid this whole time.

"I know, I know. But I don't think we have any choice anymore. How long has this guy been at this? Over a year? Now we finally have something that links all of these deaths together. We need to find out if the victims have any ties to John MacGuinness. If we find a connection with the victims, it might lead us to the killer."

They were all silent for a while, just thinking about the implications of what they had to do, and how they had to do it. Finally, Ryan spoke. "Where do you think we should start? Because personally, I think if we're going to get some good information from any of those people, we'd be better off starting with the most recent victims. They're going to have the best memories because the events are more recent."

She leaned back in her chair, thinking about it for a few moments.

Esposito chimed in, "You know, he does have a point. If there's a bigger connection between the victims other than their names, then it won't really matter where we start. And the ones whose memories are more recent will probably be better anyway."

She nodded. "Good. Let's start with Emerson and work our way backwards. And let's start going through the information about MacGuinness, now that we finally have most of it."

They'd requested information from other precincts about John, aka Mike, MacGuinness to supplement what was in the computer records, and the last of the information had just been delivered. With similar sighs, they all began to grab files about MacGuinness.

"Guys, see if you can find anything about family or friends in those files. I know our information said no next of kin except for that elderly aunt in Pennsylvania, but maybe there's something in the files."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

They were still in the conference room an hour later, still combing over old arrest reports, when the phone on the table rang. They were all jolted by the sound as their eyes flew up and found each other's. Who could be calling? They'd had the phone put in there for convenience, in case they had to make calls to track down information and didn't want to use their cell phones, but they never received any incoming calls on it. Never.

After a surprised look at the other two detectives, Beckett, punched the speaker button to answer the phone. "Twelfth precinct, Detective Beckett," she said into the otherwise quiet room as Ryan and Esposito listened, interested to see who was calling them.

"Ah, Hell's Fury, is that you? Glad I finally tracked you down," came the voice from the speakerphone.

Her mouth dropped open as she recognized the voice. "_Castle?_"

"Well, yes, Detective. It is I. Or at least that's one thing you can call me."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, a few other names _are_ coming to mind, now that you mention it... And speaking of names, what the hell did you just call me?"

"Now, now, Beckett," he chided. "But you're right. That _is_ your new first name."

She gave the phone a strange look, aware of the other two detectives that were looking at her strangely, like she should know what was going on. "Castle, you're still on the west coast, right? Did you start smoking some funny stuff they have out there?"

"Nothing more than normal," came the reply.

"Castle, we're in a police station on a speaker phone. Not a good idea to be joking about illegal activity."

"Oh, yeah. Right." There was a pause and then he said, "Ryan and Esposito there?"

Ryan said, "Hey, Castle," at the same time that Esposito told him, "Yeah, we're here."

"Cool. You guys have got to hear this."

"Castle, we're in the middle of looking through files on MacGuinness," she said in a slightly exasperated tone. Then she had a thought and she couldn't resist having a little fun with him, even though it totally derailed what they were doing. But they deserved a break, didn't they? "So what is it? And please don't tell us that you found another Mavis who needed help holding up her boobs."

She delivered the line perfectly in a voice that had just a little bit of boredom thrown into the tone, and after the words were out, it was quiet enough in the room to hear a pin drop. And her casually uttered words were just enough to make Esposito's and Ryan's suddenly wide-eyed gazes shoot to her face to see what she was going to say next. Boobs? Holding them up? And why was _Beckett_ talking about Castle holding up boobs? But the next words weren't from either of the two detectives, they were words over the speaker phone that were uttered by the supposed boob-holder. "Nice, Beckett," he said sarcastically. "You just had to bring that up in front of them, didn't you?"

Before she could offer any sort of response, Ryan got a smirk on his face and told the phone. "Come on, Castle. Spill. You were holding some...uh, womanly assets? And who's this Mavis? Did your agent set you up? Is she hot?" Beckett had to stifle a snort of laughter at that comment.

"Man, what the hell do you do on these book tours anyway, Castle?" Esposito wanted to know.

Beckett was starting to smile, grateful that she could because Rick couldn't see it anyway. And she especially enjoyed the sputtering that was beginning to come from the other end of the phone.

"Guys, it's not...look, I sign books, okay? Nothing else. And I don't...Mavis...Beckett, why did you have to mention that? Look, guys. It's nothing."

"Uh, uh, Castle. Most of what we see these days is the four walls of this conference room. If you got a good story, we need to hear it. You owe us, man." Esposito had a slightly threatening edge to his voice.

"You brought it up, Beckett. You tell them," Rick instructed. So amidst some smirks, she began to relate what Alexis had told her the previous day, making sure to keep the personal references out of her explanation.

At the end of her explanation, Esposito interjected, "Well, Castle, it appears you don't just sign _books_ after all, huh?"

"Castle, I didn't know you went for the older ladies. Was it good for Mavis?"

"Guys, might I remind you that the story that was just related to you by Beckett was related to _her_ by my _daughter_? So if my daughter witnessed it...guys, that's just sick. What you're insinuating...sick, I tell you," Rick finished, trying to sound appalled and indignant.

Beckett shook her head. "As fun as it is to discuss your boob-holding exploits, Castle, we kind of have to get back to work. And hey, how did you get this number, anyway?"

"When are you going to learn that I have connections, Detective?" he asked teasingly. "But you can't go yet, not until you hear this cool thing that I found."

"Castle, don't you have books to sign or something?" It wasn't that Beckett didn't like to talk to him, but she preferred to talk to him when she didn't have an audience.

"Not for another couple of hours, and it's blah and rainy outside. So look," he continued, "I have new names for all of us. They can be our code names."

"Code names?" Ryan asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"What the hell do we need some freaking code names for? We're not comic book characters," Esposito chimed in.

"But wouldn't that be cool if we were?" Castle asked, obviously thinking about it for a moment before he snapped back to his previous train of thought. "But no, anyway...these are our Heavy Metal Band Names! You know, like if you were to start a heavy metal band and you have to give it a cool name? Mine would be 'Bleeding Rage'. Isn't that cool?"

"Uh...well..." was all Beckett got out.

"Bleeding Rage...sounds kind of like what John MacGuinness was right before he bit it," Ryan surmised, referring to the victim's apparent temper and all of the injuries inflicted upon him before his death.

"Beckett," Castle continued, "you're Hell's Fury."

"_That's_ what you called me before? My..."

"Your heavy metal band name," Castle finished for her, and she could tell from his voice that he was probably grinning proudly at himself, wherever he was. "Yeah."

"What's mine?" Ryan asked.

"You're...Hell's Spawn."

"Why's mine like Beckett's?"

"It's based on first initials, of your first name and last name. And your first names both start with 'K'."

"I think I'm afraid to ask," Esposito interjected, "but what's my band name? And this had better be good, Castle."

"Don't blame me if you don't like it, Esposito. I just found the thing, I didn't create it. If I created it, then I would have switched around C and D for the second name so my band could have been 'Bleeding Zombies'. Zombies are a lot cooler than plain old Rage."

"Mine, Castle?" Esposito prompted again.

"Oh, yeah...yours is 'Foresaken Sin'.

"Foresaken Sin. Hmmm..." Esposito said as he thought about it. "I think you could do better, Castle."

"I told you," said the voice over the speaker, "I didn't create it. I'm only passing it on."

"Passing what on?" came a different voice from the doorway, which caused them all to turn their heads to look at who was joining their heavy metal band musings.

Captain Montgomery walked into the room and sat down in one of the empty chairs and immediately caused the smiles and smirks to drop off the faces of the three detectives. But the Captain held up a hand. "No, Detectives. I know you're all practically living here because of this case. If you want to take a break and you can find something to smile about, I don't have a problem with that. You need that or you're going to burn out before you catch the guy."

"Captain, is that you?" Castle's voice came through the speaker.

"Castle? Is that _you?_" Montgomery echoed back at him. "Aren't you supposed to be signing books or something?"

"I will be later. Good to hear your voice, Captain! How have you been?"

"Gettin' along, Castle. So when are you going to be showing your face around these parts again?"

"Just as soon as I can ditch my agent. She keeps trying to plan more and more things for me to do. Hey, you don't happen to have any other captain-y types of friends anywhere on this side of the country, do you? Someone who could find some way to arrest her and keep her in some drab, smelly jail cell for a couple of days?"

Montgomery chuckled. "Sorry, Castle, no cop friends on that side of the country. Although I do have a cousin who plays piano in a bar in Vegas."

"Hey, I'm going to Vegas! Send me his info and I'll try to look him up," Castle replied enthusiastically.

"Hey, Castle," Ryan interjected, "What's the Captain's Heavy Metal band name?"

Montgomery shot a questioning look at Ryan, and the crew began to explain about the Band Name generator. He, too, was unimpressed with Esposito's name, and said that Ryan's and Beckett's names seemed like they should be competing against each other in a 'Battle of the Hell Bands' contest. Finally, despite saying that he wasn't into heavy metal, he admitted curiosity for his heavy metal moniker.

"It's...uh...Bleeding Tendencies."

Montgomery looked surprised, but yet oddly disappointed. "Bleeding Tendencies? What the hell kind of a name is that? Tendencies to bleed? That doesn't make any sense, Castle."

"I told you guys...I just read 'em, I don't write 'em."

"Hey, what's Karpowski's band name?" Esposito wondered aloud.

Rick looked at his list. "Well," came his voice over the speaker, "the K of her last name, appropriately enough since she's in homicide, is 'Kill'. Uh...what's her first name?" he asked.

Several of the members of the conference room opened their mouths to speak, but then shut them again. Ryan got a puzzled look on his face, then opened his mouth as if to say something but then closed it again. Esposito looked at him and shrugged. Montgomery looked like he was almost there, but couldn't quite come up with the name.

"Guys?" Castle prompted through the speaker, after having heard nothing but silence since he'd asked the question.

Beckett was looking at them squirm as they tried to remember the name of their coworker. Finally, Beckett decided to take pity on them. She rolled her eyes at the fact that they had no idea what Karpowski's first name was. "God, you guys. That's lame. Her name is Roselyn."

"That's it!" Montgomery said. "I know I should know that, but I always call her Karpowski. She looks more like a Karpowski than a Roselyn anyway." He lowered his voice threateningly then. "And if any of you tell her I forgot her first name, I can always find extra paperwork for you. Even you, Castle."

"Roselyn? Really?" Esposito asked.

"Huh," was all that Ryan said, obviously still puzzled because he couldn't recal hearing it before.

"Roselyn, huh?" Castle said. "That would make her 'Bleeding Kill'.

"Castle, you and Karpowski would sound like a team of hit men...uh, people, if you went into business together," Ryan surmised. "Bleeding Rage and Bleeding Kill? I think I'd stay far away from you two."

"Nah," Esposito told them. "He still screams like a girl when he's surprised. Takes the scariness out of it."

They spoke for a few more minutes, during which time Montgomery got up to go back to his office, but not before giving them a pointed look when he wished them good luck on the case. The three detectives read between the lines and knew that while he didn't mind a little break to clear their heads and relieve some tension, he was gently telling them to wrap up the break and get back to work.

Before Castle signed off, Esposito asked, "Hey, Castle...our epicenter victim, John MacGuinness? What's his band name?"

"Uh..." he murmured as he obviously looked it up, "Foresaken Tendencies."

"Foresaken Tendencies? That one kinda sucks," Esposito observed. "If the guy got that upset over the name 'John', imagine what he would have done with 'Foresaken Tendencies'."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

She didn't recognize the number that was calling her phone at 8:00 that night, but in the midst of going through files, still at her desk, she answered distractedly, "Beckett."

"Oh, Kate dear! I'm so glad I caught you!"

"Martha?"

"Yes, dear. How have you been, darling? It seems like it's been so long since I've seen you!"

"I'm fine, Martha, although I would love one day when I could actually get home before dark." She leaned back in her chair for a moment, Martha's call providing her with a welcome break.

"Ah, yes. Richard told me about the case you were working on, although he wouldn't tell me very much. Such secrecy! That boy...it's not like I'm going to figure out who the murderer is and go tell the scoundrel about all of your evidence, now am I? Really!" she said, sounding dramatically put out that 'Richard' wouldn't tell her more.

Kate, instinctively, jumped to his defense. "Well, Martha, we were given strict orders by the higher-ups to keep everything hush-hush. I'm sure it wasn't anything against you. And you know, his own paranoia about conspiracy theories and big brother watching could have been making him more dramatic than normal," Kate told her, hoping she said the right thing.

"Oh, yes, he does tend to be so very dramatic about some things, doesn't he?" Kate laughed inwardly at her comment...Martha, the queen of drama herself, talking about _other people_ being dramatic was true irony.

"Well, at least there are no space aliens or zombies involved in my case," she laughed.

"There is that," Martha agreed. "Look, dear, I have a favor to ask of you, and I know it's quite the imposition, but I just wasn't sure who else to ask."

"Ask away, Martha, although I'm not sure...with this case..." she was naturally hesitant, because with her workload right now, combined with whatever Martha would have dreamed up, well, she felt she had to issue a disclaimer.

"Oh, I know, dear. You're working a lot. But you still do come home to sleep, don't you?"

"Well...yes..."

"Wonderful! Then this should work perfectly!" Martha sounded nothing short of thrilled. Before Kate could ask for more information, Martha continued. "I have to go away for a few days...one of my old friends is producing a small play, and they need an emergency fill-in for one of the characters."

"Well..." Kate said, still not sure why Martha was calling her. "That sounds...nice?"

"Oh, it will be so wonderful seeing Harry again. But I do have a bit of a dilemma, you see, with Alexis. With Richard gone on this extended tour, I'm the adult at home with her. Honestly, she's so responsible that she doesn't need much supervision, but you know, Richard feels better with someone else being there with her. So I thought that it would be just marvelous if you could stay at the loft while I'm gone!"

Really? Now Martha wanted her to stay at the loft _again_? First Rick with her ankle problem, and now Martha? Granted, it was a different set of circumstances, but still...

"Martha, I'm working insane hours...I'm hardly ever home these days. If you're looking for supervision, I'm about the last person you should be asking."

"Nonsense, dear. You said that you're home to sleep, and you can certainly do that at the loft. And you know that Richard would certainly feel more secure if you were there with Alexis in the nighttime hours. Oh, dear, you _were_ comfortable when you stayed with us before, weren't you? Oh, I'd hate it if—"

"Everything was fine then, Martha. And it was wonderful for you to let me stay with you...with my ankle issue." With the way this conversation had evolved, Kate was glad that the guys had stayed in the conference room when she escaped back to her desk to peruse the files. "But I don't—"

"Nonsense, darling. Alexis is busy a lot anyway. Clubs...studying...movies, oh, you know the life of a high school girl. So she could certainly entertain herself until you'd get home. And you both got along well enough when you were here before, right?"

"Well, yes—"

"Wonderful! I'm supposed to leave tomorrow morning, so you can pack a bag tonight, right? And then you can just come over tomorrow whenever you decide to take a break to get some sleep."

Kate almost looked at the phone in wonder. What? How had her affirmative answer about getting along with Alexis all of a sudden changed into an agreement to stay with the teenager. Kate tried to protest again. "But I'm not sure that—"

"And while I know Alexis likes to visit her friends," Martha continued, seemingly obilvious to Kate's attempted protests, "she still _is_ a homebody and I just _know_ she'd feel more comfortable with you here with her."

Well, Kate thought as she listened, Hurricane Martha was at full force, wasn't she? Kate stopped trying to protest and waited for the eye of the storm, when Martha paused to take a breath.

But when Kate finally could talk, she found that she couldn't really think of much to say. Somehow, Martha had very deftly gotten and cheerfully gotten around all of Kate's objections, despite the fact that she hadn't even been able to fully voice a lot of them.

"Uh...Martha..." was all she got out before Martha started in again. So much for the eye of the hurricane being quiet.

"Thank you _so much_, Kate darling! We'll see you tomorrow night. Well, I won't, but Alexis will. I'm just going to go run and tell her now. We'll have to get together for lunch when you're done with this case, dear. There are some wonderful stories of a young Richard that you simply _have_ to hear! Ta-ta, darling!" And then she was gone.

Kate slowly took the disconnected phone away from her ear and just looked at it with bleary, tired eyes. What had just happened?

Well, apparently, Kate had just gotten herself a new place to stay for the next...oh, she didn't even know how long she was supposed to stay.

But somehow, she realized that she wasn't all that upset about her abrupt change in living arrangements. Maybe it was the fatigue of the case that wasn't making her think clearly. Yes, that was probably it. It probably had nothing to do with how comfortable she'd gotten in the loft when she'd stayed there, how easily she'd fit into their routines. Nope, she thought with a smile. Nothing at all to do with that.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

As Kate went back to pouring over files after her phone call, there were two redheads in another part of the city that were sitting on a couch with little grins on their faces.

"So she said yes?" Alexis asked.

"Not exactly," Martha replied with a sly look. "But I didn't really give her much of a chance, now did I?"

Alexis thought back to the side of the conversation that she could hear. "Now that you mention it, no. Did you even give her a chance to say anything?"

"Not a lot, no," Martha replied smugly.

"Grams, you're amazing," Alexis said while giving her a quick hug. "You played that so well! I knew you could do it."

"Well, dear, while my acting talents are legendary in some circles, I do have to give you credit for your wonderful script."

"But you just improvised. I didn't really do anything."

"Oh, no darling. Don't sell yourself short. You may not have written my exact words, but you came up with the idea and set the scene. And I must say that I think this little ruse will work very nicely toward your goal of sending Kate off to visit your father for a few days during his tour."

"You think so?"

"Definitely. Although I do worry about this case she's working on..." Then she made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "But don't worry about that. Kate and those other good looking detectives are very good at what they do. I'm sure they'll solve this case very soon."

"I hope so. But I'm sorry to have to kick you out as part of the plan, Grams."

"Nonsense. I can always use a vacation. Maybe I actually will go visit my old friend Harry. It would be nice to see how she's doing after 'the change'."

"Oh." Alexis looked momentarily puzzled. "I just assumed Harry was a man. But really, Grams, I don't need to hear about menopause problems, okay?" Sometimes her Grams gave just a little bit too much information.

"Oh, no, not menopause, dear. Gender reassignment surgery. Harry is a man now, but used to be Harriet."

"Oh," Alexis said as she nodded. "I can't really say...that I saw that one coming. And no, I don't really want to think about the specifics of that either. But Grams, you just said 'she' when you were talking about Harry."

"Oh, dear, I did, didn't I? Pesky pronouns. I will have to watch that, won't I?" Then she stood up. "So are you ready to go make the guest room uninhabitable?"

Alexis stood up too, and started heading for the stairs. "Yes, we definitely _need_ to redecorate that room," she agreed in a conspiring tone. "It's such a shame that Kate will have to stay in Dad's room when she's staying with me."

"Yes, dear, such a shame. It'll probably make her miss him all that much more," Martha responded in an equally consipiring tone.

Alexis flashed her grandmother a smile. "And that's exactly what I'm counting on."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Sorry for so little Caskett in this one, but I hope the rest made up for it. How many of you actually remembered that Alexis was conspiring to get Beckett to visit Castle on the tour?<strong>_

_**As I proofed this one, I realized that the tone of this was a bit different than other chapters of this story have been. It was mostly just light fluff, more like 'Blizzard' and even parts of 'The Plan'. Hope it was still okay.**_

_**I'd very much love to hear your thoughts on the chapter, good or bad. Thanks in advance!**_


	30. Chapter 30

_**I've been traveling for the last several days, taking my kids to an out-of-state sporting competition. Haven't been writing (shame on me, I know). **_

_**I do need to apologize...much to my chagrin and utter mortification, I realized that I reused a name, totally accidentally, that was used in the Castle episode "Famous Last Words." In plotting out this story, I had to come up with the crimes and the connection that ties everything together. If you've gotten this far, you know that my 'original' victim was named 'John MacGuinness', and the story is heavily based off of THAT name. In the episode, the former manager of the victim also had the same name as my victim here, although it was spelled differently. I don't know how in the world I missed that, and for so long, but when I realized it, I wanted to crawl in a hole for a few days. That said, a lot of this story is based on that particular name, so I won't be changing it or I'd have to change a sizable part of my story.**_

_**Thanks for the reviews and the nice observations. I was surprised with how many people have just now found this and spent a while catching up. But that's great!**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Castle, and obviously I don't own the name John MacGuinness (or McGinnis). I'm just virtually borrowing them.**_

* * *

><p>Ian Emerson was a twenty-four year old graduate student who had apparently been training for a marathon in the recent months, and he was the second "E" victim of the John Killer. He lived with his younger brother, Gage in a small but nice apartment close enough to Central Park to make the park a popular spot for Ian to train.<p>

As Beckett and Esposito had learned by interviewing Gage Emerson again, Ian had gone for his nightly run to try to de-stress and let his mind rest a bit as he prepared for some big exams coming up in a couple of his graduate classes. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary. They also learned that he was a creature of habit; he would run the same route every time he ran. Since he was training, he would periodically increase his distance, and then he'd map out a new route, but would stick with that new route until it was time for him to revise it again. Gage didn't know how long he'd been on the current route, but judging by his patterns and the carefully constructed murder site, they figured that it wasn't a new route for him.

He had apparently been incapacitated by a stun gun during his training run; they found the telltale marks on his upper shoulder. After he was immobilized, his arm and leg were tethered to a metal chain-link fence with a zip tie. And then somehow, their killer made the regular chain link fence into an electric fence, and Ian Emerson was electrocuted.

When they'd been reading the case report a few days before, Esposito had let out a low whistle. "I wonder what he hooked to that fence to get that kind of current going."

"Probably a car battery or something," Ryan offered.

"No, that's just it. A car battery is only 12 volts. You could pretty much grab the terminals of with your bare hands and it wouldn't do anything to you. No, our psycho did something interesting to kill this guy," Esposito surmised, "something that took some planning."

Now, they had to go back and see if they could glean anything about Ian Emerson's life that would prove to be a tie to any of the other victims. Gage Emerson was trying to be helpful, but it was still difficult for the young man to talk about his brother, and especially to be asked questions again by a different team of detectives. When they got to the part about the method that his brother died, delicately asking if there was some connection, the young man got noticably agitated.

"Look, the other cops told me all of this, and really, it's just bad pictures in my mind, dude," the brother said in response to Esposito's question. "Ian was a good guy. A little straight-laced, but a good guy."

"Ever seen him?" Esposito asked, changing the subject in deference to the younger Emerson's apparent agitation. He opened a file and handed the picture of John MacGuinness to the young man.

He studied the picture. "Who is he?"

"He's a person of interest in your brother's murder," Esposito provided cryptically. It wasn't an untrue statement; even though the man was dead, he was still a person of interest.. "Does he look familiar to you?"

"Please note," Beckett told him, "you probably would have seen him some time ago, not recently. He could have worked with your brother, ridden the same bus as him..." she trailed off, not wanting to give much away, but wanting him to hopefully branch out in his recollections.

He studied the picture. "No, I'm sorry. He doesn't look familar at all."

They questioned him a bit more, but it proved to be futile. They tried every connection they could possibly think of, but nothing tracked back to John MacGuinness. In a fit of desperation, Esposito even asked Gage if anyone had ever called his brother, "John." Gage looked at him curiously, like the detective had lost his mind.

"No. His name was Ian. Why would someone call him a different name?"

"No reason, just something we needed to check out. And Mr. Emerson?" Beckett said, addressing the young man with compassion in her eyes. "I know nothing can bring your brother back, but we're committed to finding the person who did this to him, and making sure he pays for what he did. Please know that. Meanwhile, if you remember anything else, please give one of us a call. Thank you for your time," she finished politely.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Angie Nowatowski didn't appear to be home when they knocked on her door, but they stepped back toward the elevator just as a woman was getting off, carring a load of laundry. They watched her, and sure enough, she stopped to unlock the door they'd just been knocking on. Esposito walked over and introduced himself and Beckett. She looked at them curiously, but invited them into her apartment.

John Nowatowski was the victim whose death had originally been ruled an accident; it just looked like he lost his balance and had fallen down the stairs, his head apparently connecting with the railing in a fatal blow. Technically, his death was still listed as an accident, although in their investigation, they were attributing his death to the 'John' killer because of the name coincidences and the fact that they'd spotted the bloody fingerprint in one of the CSU photos. Beckett didn't want to alarm his wife unnecessarily, so she initially said, after expressing her condolences and apologizing for having to revisit this, that there were a few things that they just needed to clarify about her husband's death.

"Did he have any health conditions that might have caused the fall? Vertigo? Maybe even just a cold or ear infection that might have affected his balance?" Beckett asked.

"No...I mean, he had a cold, yeah, but that was...around the time of the big blizzard? A while ago. He got over it."

"Does the name 'John MacGuinness' sound familiar to you?" Esposito threw out.

She looked at him, as if she was thinking about it, but then shook her head. "No. Should it?"

Esposito gave a small shrug as Beckett asked, "Where did your husband work?"

"At Baker, Baker and Glessner. Sounds like a law firm, doesn't it? But it's not. They deal with corporate real estate. But he is...uh, was...an attorney...just with real estate, not, like, trials or anything. The firm just had a party because they got some big deal to redevelop an old warehouse into some new-ish thing...office and residential, with retail shops too. Work, Play, Live, or something like that. The Ledger did an article on it a little while ago."

"The firm where your husband works...was that in the same building where he had his accident?"

She nodded.

Beckett looked at her notes again, to make it seem like she was checking the file, even though the question she was going to ask wasn't in the file. It was something that occurred to her after talking with Gage Emerson. "Mrs. Nowatowski, was your husband into physical fitness? Keeping in shape? Running, maybe?"

"Well, he belonged to a gym...why?"

"Well, he was found in the stairwell of the building where he worked. I know a lot of professionals who want to keep in shape will often take the stairs, just to get in some exercise if they're really busy at work and can't make it to the gym. Did he do this regularly, maybe to supplement his gym workouts?"

Angie Nowatowski shook her head. "Nope. No way. John hates...hated to do stuff like that. When he worked out, he wanted to be totally into his workout. Besides, he hates getting sweaty in the middle of the day when he's working." She shook her head again, not even realizing that she didn't catch herself this last time when she used the present tense in relation to her deceased husband. "Why?"

"Just a thought." Beckett smiled to seem more congenial, more routine with her questions. "It was just that his firm is on the twenty-second floor of their building, and that's where he had his accident. I just thought he might have been trying to get in a little workout." Damn, Beckett thought; so much for finding a lead with predictable exercise patterns.

"John? Run up or even down twenty-two flights? No way." She gave a little chuckle, and then her face sobered again, as if remembering again that her husband was dead. "He just said the elevator wasn't working right. He called me right before...you know? He was going to pick up his dry cleaning on the way home, but with the delay because of the waiting, he called and asked me to do it. Said after waiting for so long for the damn thing, he wouldn't make it in time. So he was going to walk down a flight and catch the elevator there, and he'd just meet me at home."

"So you thought something might be wrong when he didn't meet you at home as planned?"

She nodded. "I didn't think much of it at first. But then he wouldn't answer his phone, and since it was so late by the time I started to get really worried, it was hard to find someone in the building." Kate could see it in the woman's eyes, how she was reliving that night when her husband didn't come home, and she couldn't reach him as it got later and later. "I stayed...here." She shook her head as if beating herself up, yet again, thinking there was somthing she could have done. "I knew I should have gone down there. I should have..." she trailed off as her eyes filled with tears.

"Mrs. Nowatowski," Kate said gently, "by the time you realized that he was late, he'd probably already had his accident." Kate was somewhat proud of herself for not hesitating when she said the word 'accident', because she and Esposito knew Nowatowski's death was anything but an accident. "The police report said that he died instantly during the fall. Even if you had done more, it wouldn't have made any difference. You didn't do anything wrong."

The woman lifted tear-filled eyes to the detectives. "Maybe not. But regardless, my husband is still...gone, and I'm still here. And you know what just eats at me? I didn't know he was gone. I tried calling him. There were sixteen missed calls from me on his phone. Sixteen. I was annoyed that he wasn't home so I kept calling, and I didn't know that he was already dead. He was _dead,_ and I just wanted him to pick up the phone. What does that make me?"

Beckett took a deep breath. "Human. It makes you human, not clairvoyant."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

They went back to the station after that. They'd wanted to speak with Jan Nellis' family, but hadn't been able to reach them yet. So they did the next best thing and went back to the precinct, hoping that Ryan had gleaned some more information about John MacGuinness, information that would hopefully point them to their killer.

"Tell me you have something," Beckett said as she and Esposito walked into the conference room, where Ryan had several files open around him and was staring at computer screen.

"Well, I do..." he said distractedly, and then typed a few things on the computer. He waited for a second, and she could see that whatever he'd been searching for, he hadn't found any hits. "...And I don't. Damn." He looked up at them. "How did you guys do?"

"Neither of them remembered MacGuinness from anywhere. I was surprised that Nowatowski's wife didn't question us more about why we were talking to her though. Far as she knows, her husband's death was a stupid accident."

"Probably a product of grief," Beckett told Esposito. "Rational, focused thought is sometimes at a premium. You just go through the motions and think about things later. So tell us what you did find, Ryan."

"Well, once I started digging, it got a bit more interesting. We knew that MacGuinness didn't have any kids, so, you know...him not reproducing? Probably a good thing for the human race as a whole. And he didn't have any family left to speak of. So I thought maybe it would be good to talk to the old girlfriend. You know, the one he thought would make a good punching bag?" He reached to his right and grabbed a file from under a stack of papers. "Look what I found."

Beckett took it and opened it, with Esposito reading over her shoulder. They soon discovered they were looking at a file regarding a Margo Carson. And it was a report on the woman's death.

"The girlfriend is dead too? So much for that lead," Esposito huffed out in exasperation.

"No, not just dead. Murdered. Just keep reading," Ryan urged, almost smugly. Both of the other detectives eyed him suspiciously, but then went back to the file.

And pretty soon, as they dug further into the file, their eyes got just a little bigger. "Is this for real?" Esposito asked.

"Puts the crime scenes in a little different perspective, doesn't it?" Ryan asked.

"And now there's absolutely no doubt whatsoever that this is tied to MacGuinness. It fits. I almost can't believe this. And God...can you imagine what Castle would say if he was here?"

They flipped through the crime scene photos of Margo Carson's very bloody demise, staring at what had to be hundreds of blood fingerprints left on various surfaces around the apartment where she was found.

"The report, if you read it," Ryan summarized for them, "said that she was probably delirious with pain. She was beaten up, and she had several small stab wounds that would account for the blood. So she's attacked, beaten, and then apparently, was left there to die. Or who knows, maybe whoever did it just wanted to teach her a lesson or something, so he just...left, not knowing that the wounds would be fatal. She didn't die right away though. She made it around the apartment...touching things? I don't know. But you can see all of the prints. Judging from some of the stab wounds, my guess is that she was clutching her abdomen here and there because of the injuries, and then she'd reach out to hold onto something as she walked around or crawled around, hence the bloody fingerprints."

Beckett shook her head. "Let me guess. MacGuinness? Came back to finish the job?"

Ryan shrugged. "Don't know. Dude was arrested for it, but he got off. He alibied out, shaky alibi but an alibi. And the defense lawyer found some technicality so he got off scot-free. At that point, they tried to write it off as a home invasion. And the case was never solved."

The guys could see her eyes cloud over as the similarities between Margo Carson's murder and her mother's murder became apparent. Stab wounds...write it off...never solved. But then thy watched as the professional in her pushed it aside to concentrate on their current case. "So when was this?" Beckett said to herself as she looked for the date on the files. "Way back in Ninety-Seven. So if someone thought MacGuinness was responsible for this, why would that person wait over ten years to kill him? And why keep killing other people after the guy was dead?"

"That's the question. Well, one of them," Ryan said. "As soon as we figure something out, then more questions just seem to multiply."

"So who was _her_ next of kin?" Esposito wanted to know.

At that question, Ryan gave Espsito a look. "That's where it gets interesting."

"Like this isn't interesting enough?" Esposito mentioned sarcastically.

"She had a son," Ryan began, "William Frederick Jackson, born in 1981. Never married the kid's father; he died in the early nineties in a car accident."

"So he was...what? Sixteen when his mother died? Still a minor. So where is he now?"

"Nobody knows," Ryan told them, a look of frustration forming on his face where before there had just been the sharpness of building theory as pieces of the case came together. "He just...vanished." Ryan shrugged.

"Vanished, like as in 'missing person', or 'body at the bottom of the Hudson' vanished?" Beckett wanted to know. "God, I sound like Castle now," she said under her breath, as she heard what her comment sounded like when spoken aloud.

"No, I'm pretty sure he's alive, but he's not William Jackson anymore. I think he's been living under some other name for a while. See, there are records for him up until a certain point, but then...nothing. In 2005, he just...ceased to exist anymore."

"What about friends? Coworkers? What do they remember about him?"

"Haven't gotten that far. When you walked in, I was still trying to find some trace of him online."

"No luck?" Beckett asked.

He shook his head. "Not so far. I'm serious when I say the guy just disappeared. I had school records, DMV, credit card, bank...everything, until August of 2005. Then there was nothing."

"So he died?"

"Not necessarily. No death record. His social hasn't been used since then either."

She let out a loud sigh. "Keep digging. This could be our guy."

After she said that, though, she saw the looks on Esposito's and Ryan's faces and made a split-second decision. "But do it tomorrow."

Ryan looked at her like she'd grown horns. "Beckett?"

"No, Ryan, I'm serious. Tomorrow. We've been going at this for a couple of weeks. We've had other leads that we've gotten late in the day, and then we stay late into the night following them up. And we get absolutely bupkis from it."

"Bupkis?" Ryan echoed.

She shrugged. "Seemed like something Castle would say if he was here." And knowing that she was going to Castle's loft for the next several days, Castle was certainly never very far from her mind.

"Awww...you miss him, huh?" Ryan said sappily.

"Stuff a sock it in, Ryan," she told him with a glare before changing the subject. "But look, if we actually go home tonight before eight o'clock, I don't think the world will end."

Esposito verbally stepped in. "Seriously, Beckett?"

She chewed on her lip. "Um...yeah." And as she said the words, she knew that it was the right answer. Even though, right now, she wanted to catch this guy more than just about anything, she knew that they couldn't keep being effective like this. They needed a little bit of downtime. "Go home. I know it's not really early anymore, but it's still a little bit early. And if we can get out of here for a little while, it might actually do us all some good."

"Don't have to tell me twice," Ryan said as he got up. "I'll get on it first thing tomorrow. If William Jackson is still alive, we'll find him," Ryan told her resolutely.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

As strange as it felt after all of this time, Beckett let herself into the Castle loft that night with the key that Rick had insisted that she keep. It had been a while since she'd lived there with them after the blizzard, and it didn't feel nearly as strange as she thought it would. Of course, maybe that was because she knew she was expected.

And expected, she was. Alexis was busy stirring something on the stove, and that something assaulted her nose in a very good way. "Kate!" she said excitedly with a big smile as she saw the Detective open the door, overnight back slung over her shoulder. "You're here!"

"Hi, Alexis. That smells really good...what is it?" She set her bag down by the door.

"Beef stroganoff. Dad's recipe. He made it once...remember?"

Kate thought back, her mind playing back through the memories. Memories of when she was first staying at the loft and had the mental crisis about getting too comfortable there, and then made the decision to stop obsessing. Beef stroganoff, and ice cream afterwards. "How could I forget? But did you remember the ice cream for dessert?"

"Mais oui!" the girl affirmatively answered as she smiled. "Come on...grab a plate. It's almost done."

"How did you know I'd be home this early?" Kate asked as she took plates out of the cupboard, but then inwardly cringed when she realized that she'd just called the loft 'home'.

But Alexis didn't seem to have caught it as she said, "I didn't, but I figured you could just heat it up whenever you got home." Kate blinked at the girl, not expecting Alexis to echo her own verbal gaffe about referring to the loft as 'home'.

Alexis seemed happy to have her there, and if the truth be told, she was glad to be at the loft with her. It was...comfortable. Nice. It was an escape. And who _wouldn't_ have a problem with coming home to a personable young lady and a dinner that had her mouth watering. So any verbal gaffes about the loft being 'home'; well, she'd just overlook them, and not obsess about them, just like the last time she'd eaten Castle's beef stroganoff.

They piled their plates high and took them into the living room to sit in front of the TV. Between bites, Alexis began telling Kate about some of her classes at school. Before they knew it, their plates were empty and they took them back into the kitchen to exchange them for bowls of ice cream.

"So I never asked about Martha. Did she get off to her friend's show all right?"

Alexis went on to explain about the confusion she had with Harry and how Harry apparently used to be a Harriet. "Grams kept saying 'she' whenever she talked about Harry, and I kept having to correct her. Who would have thought that a little thing like a pronoun would be so tough to get right?"

"I suppose it's just one of those things you don't think about. You can get used to calling someone by a new name, but pronouns are so common and you use them every day, so I suppose it's really easy to use the wrong one if you've always been programmed to think a different way."

They chatted for a few more minutes, during which time Kate realized that she was ready to fall asleep. She apologized to Alexis and said she had to make it an early night. After she grabbed her overnight bag and headed toward the stairs, she turned around when she heard Alexis' voice tentatively call out to her.

"I just...I'm sorry I didn't mention it earlier. I just didn't even think about it. But, uh, you can't stay in the guest room. Grams and I were doing something to it, you know, like redecorating stuff. It was kind of a 'Dad's away, the ladies will play' project. And it's really a mess right now."

"Well, uh...okay." Kate was a little surprised that Martha hadn't mentioned that she wouldn't be able to stay in the bedroom, but she figured the older woman was absorbed with Harriet's problem. Or Harry's. Whatever. "That's fine. I'll just sleep on the couch. Do you have some blan—"

"No!" the teenager interrupted. "I mean, you're being nice enough to stay with me while Dad and Grams are gone, and I'm certainly not going to make you sleep on the couch!"

"Well, you don't have any other rooms, do you?"

"Well, no, but...take Dad's room. I mean, he's not using it, right?"

"Your father's room?"

"Well, yeah." The girl nodded. "Why not?" And then that girl looked at Kate expectantly, and Kate wondered how she could refuse politely.

But before she could refuse, it occurred to her that Castle's bed _was_ vacant, after all, and it was private, and Alexis knew that she'd slept in it already, when she was recuperating.

And Kate knew the bed was comfortable. And she was tired. And Alexis was waiting for an answer.

"No reason at all," Kate finally answered. "I'll just take my bag in there. See you in the morning?"

After saying the rest of her thanks for dinner and her goodnights, she retired to Castle's room and got ready for bed. She was just climbing between the sheets when she heard her phone ring. Grabbing it, she looked at the display.

Castle. It figured.

She pushed the answer button on the phone. "Castle," was all she said.

"Beckett?" he asked, sounding confused. "You sound different. Is everything okay?"

"Never better. But do you have any idea where I am, right now?" she asked in a light, almost whispery voice.

"Uh...in front of a murder board?"

"Wrong answer."

"Really? You're not at the precinct? Don't tell me you actually got home at a decent hour?"

"Not exactly," she told him.

"Don't tell me you're chasing down leads this late! Kate, you have to rest—"

"Don't worry, Castle, I _am_ resting. And right now, right this very minute, I'm lying in _your_ bed."

* * *

><p><em><strong>So I hope everyone has had some good summer moments lately. <strong>_

_**And I hope you enjoyed the chapter. It just didn't want to end!**_

_**One note: I've been selected as a finalist in the Castle Fan Awards for three of my stories: Blizzard, How Do I Love Thee, and Not a Stitch (Categories A11, A9 and A3, respectively). Yippee! I was so excited to find out that my stories got selected! Since Blizzard is the prequel to this story, I thought it was especially cool to have that one be chosen as I'm in the midst of writing the sequel for it. So if anyone would like to vote (hopefully for me...I'd really appreciate it), you can go to castlefans . org and follow the links to the award finalists. There are links to the stories, so if you want some summer Castle reading, I'd think that would be a good place to start.**_

_**And if you wouldn't mind a review, I would appreciate one of those too. Thank you!**_


	31. Chapter 31

_**I'd like to sincerely thank those who reviewed the last chapter: LoveJessieLou, Tazman10, cinster, 76Marjo, emmy the vampire 96742, I'm widget, docvap, dopeysac, lkwill39, Mark C, Deb838, lv2bnsb1, IrrationalObsssions, Steve1961 and faeriehallie. Your wonderful comments are what keeps this story going and makes me continue even when I'm wondering if I should continue or not.**_

_**This chapter is a bunch of fluff. More case stuff in the next few chapters. I know I have to get back to that pesky case sometime, right? But alas, not now.**_

_**Don't forget to vote for your favorite fanfic stories at the Castle Fan Awards: castlefans dot net. I have three entries in the competition (so of course, I'd love it if you vote for mine.) But really, go vote if you haven't. And hey, there are links to all of the stories, so if nothing else, use it as a comprehensive link for a bunch of new reading material. But yeah...vote. Thanks!**_

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Castle.**_

* * *

><p>There was a long pause with the sound of pretty much nothing. And there was so much nothing on the other end of the line that Kate started to wonder if the line hadn't been disconnected. But then, finally, she heard him clear his throat and say, "Beckett? Uh...I don't think I heard you right."<p>

"Oh, you heard me right, but just to make sure, I'll repeat it for you. I'm. Lying. In. Your. Bed," she finished slowly, each word enunciated very deliberately. Just imagining his reaction to her news, she had a smile on her face. But she tried to keep the smile that was on her face out of her voice as she spoke with him.

"You're not at your apartment."

"Not unless your bed has been moved to my apartment, and you somehow hired interior decorators to duplicate your room there. Oh, and of course there's the small matter of the wonderful dinner that your daughter made for us, and though I suppose she could have been a hologram, I'm not really sure how the dinner that she made tasted so good or was so filling if that was a hologram too."

"Uh...so let me get this straight. You're at my loft, currently in my bed?"

"Ah, now you're catching on, Castle!" she said enthusiastically.

"Not that I'm...complaining, or mad or...but, uh..._why_?"

"Castle, have you been sniffing the fumes from your book-signing sharpie? Martha? She went out of town? Harry? Is that bringing back any memories?"

"My mother went out of town?" His voice had risen more than just a little bit. "But what about Alexis? She's supposed to be there with Alexis! And who the hell is Harry?"

"Simmer down, big boy. That's apparently why I'm here; I'm staying here at night for a while, so Alexis has someone here at night until your mother gets back."

"You are?" he asked with almost a squeak, his voice sounding cautiously hopeful.

"Yes, I am. But you mean they didn't tell you about Martha leaving? It sounded like you knew about it."

"No!" he denied forcefully, before remembering the other part of the equation. "And who the hell is Harry? Did my mother find a new man?"

Kate couldn't believe what Rick had just said; the pun of the statement. 'New Man'...well, yes, she thought, technically, Harry _was_ a new man. Was he trying to yank her chain? If he was, she was soooo not into it tonight. She just wanted to go to sleep. "Funny, Castle. Really funny," she told him sarcastically. "Listen, I'm tired."

"I know you are, but what's funny? And who is this guy? Although I'm not quite sure I'm saying this, I want to hear about my mother's new man."

The absurdity of the statement hit her, but now for some reason, she found it a bit funny, causing her to giggle just a bit. "There you go again. I already said that's a nice one, Castle. Now can we move away from the jokes about good old Harry?"

"What jokes? Beckett, you're not making sense."

"Oh, come _on_, Rick! 'New man'? You really couldn't come up with anything better than that?"

"Kate, I'm still not following you."

She thought about his protests for a few seconds, realizing that maybe he wasn't just trying to be cute. Especially not with the fact that he didn't even seem to know that his mother was gone. "Castle, Harry...you know, your mother's friend. She made it sound like they've been friends for a while. You don't know...him?"

"No."

"Okay, do you recall some friend named Harriet? Theater friend? Didn't sound like an actor...maybe a producer or some other behind-the-scenes type?"

"Uh..." He obviously was thinking about it. "Oh, yeah. Harriett...Manley, I think her last name is. I always thought her last name really fit her because the woman is built like a football linebacker."

His cluelessness and innocence in his statement, not to mention hearing Harry's last name, just hit her funny bone, and she started laughing. "God, Castle, are you serious?" she gasped amidst her laughter.

"Beckett, I hate to ask, but...have you been drinking? Breathing too deeply in the confiscated drug locker? Because I have to say that I'm having a really hard time following you, and now you're really...laughing, and..." he trailed off.

"Rick, you really don't know who Harry is?"

"Kate, I feel like I'm really missing something. First you tell me you're in my bed, which is really enough to get my mind spinning. Then I hear that you're staying with Alexis because my mother apparently snagged some new man to have her wild way with...what _now_?" he asked when he heard her start to snicker again, but then he continued. "And then you start talking about some old frend of my mother's who used to scare me even when I was in my teens..."

She finally, through his confusion and her laughter, gleaned that he really was as clueless about this as he seemed; he wasn't trying to yank her chain. "Rick, apparently Harriet is now going by Harry. Because Harriet _is_ Harry now. In _every_ sense." She let her words sink in for a few moments, and she could almost hear the gears grinding in his brain as he processed her words and realized what she was trying to tell him.

"Oh. _Oh_. So you mean that Harriet...oh. Seriously? So Harriet..."

"Apparently Harriet is no more. So when you made the quip about your mother finding a 'new man'..." she trailed off.

He chuckled. "Wow, that really _was_ a good one, and I had no idea. So Harriet had her—"

"Gender reassigned, Castle," she interrupted, a little bit scared of what he'd been about to say; which, knowing him and his way with words, could have been entertaining or off-color.

"And my mother?"

"No, your mother is still a woman, as far as I know," she quipped.

"Kate, that's not what I meant. Why did she go out of town? Something to do with Harrie—uh, Harry?"

Oh, that's right, he didn't know, she remembered. "I'm not entirely sure, Rick. She called me yesterday like some whirlwind and told me to pack a bag because she had to go out of town, and you feel more comfortable if someone is with Alexis in the loft."

"She _ordered_ you to stay with Alexis?" His voice was getting louder again.

"No, Rick, don't worry," she told him, trying to defend Martha. "She didn't really...order me, per se, she just kind of...assumed with a bit of steamroller thrown in. Sure, she caught me by surprise, but it's okay. I told her that I'm not at home much these days, really just to sleep, but she said that was fine; you just wanted someone here at night with her."

"But what is she _doing_ that she'd just up and leave Alexis like that? Oh, never mind. I'll call her."

"Probably a good idea because like I said, I don't really know. I just can't believe that you didn't know...that nobody told you. But anyway, I just packed a bag, and came over here tonight to find your daughter making your special beef stroganoff. And now I'm relaxing in your comfortable bed after having probably the best meal I've had in weeks."

"So how's my bed doing anyway?" he asked in a deep voice that gave a sexy sound to his words.

"Lonely without you in it," her apparently filterless mouth said right away, before she could even think about it.

"So tell me...what are you wearing, Detective?" he asked in that same low voice.

The turn that the conversation had taken was starting to conjure up images in her mind; images which, when put together with where she was lying and how much she missed him, was not a good combination. So she turned on her best, no-nonsnse 'detective' voice and told him sternly, "Knock it off, Rick. I'm _not_ going to have phone sex with you." And then, because her mouth had lost that filter, she also almost immediately added, "I'm going to wait for the real thing."

Once again, there was complete silence on the other end of the phone for several seconds. That was good, because once Kate realized what had come out of her mouth, she just closed her eyes and willed the phone to spontaneously disconnect. Sure, they'd talked about it, heck, they'd even sort of made plans to...accomplish that goal, before Paula had shot their plans full of holes by making him leave a day early. But that was weeks ago, and she'd been caught up in this case since literally the last moment she'd seen him in person. And there was still really no end in sight with this case, and he still had several weeks left on his tour...no, she didn't need to complicate things by going any further into that conversation; letting those thoughts gel any more in her brain.

"Oh..." came the word, finally, into her ear through the phone. "So, uh..."

"Uh...forget what I just said, okay? I'm kind of tired, and I say some strange things when I'm tired." She finished, and then she just kept her eyes closed, hoping that he wouldn't try to run with what she'd said before. With missing him, with the case, and with...everything, she just did _not_ want to go any farther with that line of thought. It would be an enticing thought for the right time, but that wasn't now. It definitely wasn't now. She just hoped he somehow knew that.

"Like, oh, when you called me 'hot' when we were in the Hamptons?" She felt the relief swamp her as she recognized nothing more than the familiar bantering in which they regularly engaged. And then she stopped to think about what he was saying.

"What are you talking about? When did I call you hot?" she challenged. Was he delusional? She did think he was kind of...hot, and he could definitely kiss, but she certainly would have never told _him_ that. His ego would have inflated substantially, and she didn't want to deal with that.

"During the blizzard, when I cooked the eggs on the three-season porch and brought them back to the room? Remember? You were asleep, and after I woke you up, you called me hot."

She thought back, and remembered. The eggs. His wake-up kiss. She inwardly groaned. Leave it to him to remember that moment when she made an off-hand comment when she was still half asleep. "You're comparing yourself to eggs now?" she teased, trying to get out of this topic of conversation.

"Well, as I remember, _you_ were the one who was comparing me to eggs. And you know...as long as you call me hot, I don't care if you compare me to eggs or not." She could almost see his cocky grin when she heard his words. But bless that man and his ADD, because despite his cocky attitude, he realized that she needed a change of subject, and he continued seamlessly, "So how is the case? Anything interesting happen today?"

Grateful for the change of topic, she settled more into the pillows and began to tell him about everything that had happened with the case that day, from the interviews with the family of the last two victims, to the very telling crime scene photos from the technically still unsolved murder of MacGuinness' girlfriend, to the discovery of the girlfriend's son who had seemingly disappeared from the face of the earth. He listened, always interested to find out more about the case, until he noticed the obvious increase in the fatigue behind her words. When he told her he was going to go, she issued a feeble protest, but nonetheless started saying her goodbyes.

"Don't get into any trouble, 'kay?"

"I'll try to be good, but I know cops now. Thought you could put in a good word for me if I get arrested," he joked.

"No way. You'll serve your time, and then _we'll_ throw you in lockup when you get back here just for good measure. You should know better." Her words were punctuated by a loud yawn.

"Hey Kate?"

"Mmmm?"

"Thanks for taking care of my kid. I...if my mother's going to be her usual flaky self, then I'm really glad you can be there for her."

"Don't worry about it, Castle. It's all good. And she's a good cook."

"Still...thank you." His voice was warm, sincere, letting her know how much it meant to him. "Now go to sleep. I wish I could be there with you though."

"Me too. But then again, something tells me that I wouldn't be getting any sleep if you were here."

He chuckled lightly. "Yeah, you're probably right about that. Good night, Kate." Then, after a brief hesitation, he added softly, "I miss you."

"Miss you too, Castle."

And once again, after the call was ended, both of them in the privacy of their own minds, suspected that in the words they had each just spoken, the word 'miss' was just a mere substitution for another four-letter word, one that started with 'L'...and one that neither of them thought the other was ready to hear just yet.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

She awoke the next morning to the smell of something wonderful coming out of the kitchen. It seemed like she'd just gone to bed, but after a look at the clock, she realized that she'd must have slept like the dead. She didn't recall having such a good night's sleep in a while.

The aroma was vaguely familiar, and she threw off the covers to pad out into the kitchen in her bare feet. Alexis had seen her in her pajamas before, so she wasn't worried about throwing on a robe.

When she got to the kitchen, she knew what had smelled familiar. It was the breakfast casserole that Castle had made in the Hamptons, and had made again that time he'd brought it into the precinct. Alexis had apparently gotten up at the crack of dawn to make it. When Kate came into the kitchen and remarked on it, Alexis greeted her with a big grin on her face and handed a plate to her right away.

"Good morning! Dad told me that you really liked this, so I thought I'd make it again as kind of a thank you for stepping in when Grams...uh, stepped out. Oh, my gosh! That sounded kind of bad, didn't it? How about...stepped away?"

Kate smiled at the girl and how obviously flustered she was. "It's fine...I know what you mean. I'm just surprised that you know what 'stepping out' used to refer to. It's not a term that's used too much anymore."

—

"I read a lot," the girl said, as if that explained everything. "Anyway, let's dig in. I bet you want to get to work early."

Kate sat down at the counter. "I wouldn't necessarily say I _want_ to get to work early, but yes, I have to. What I really _want_ to do is take the day off," she told the girl, even surprising herself just a little bit as she heard the words come out of her mouth. "But I can't even think about that until we catch this killer."

"But then?" Alexis prompted. "Will you take a little vacation?"

Kate took a bite as she thought about it. "Right now," she said after she swallowed, "that sounds wonderful. But who knows? Maybe I'll take a day or two and just lounge around and catch up on some sleep."

Alexis nodded and took a bite of her own. After her bite was gone, she got a excited look on her face all of a sudden, before exclaiming, "I just thought of the most perfect idea. It's so great...really. Why didn't I think of this sooner? It's perfect!"

"What?"

"You need a vacation, Dad's traveling around everywhere...you should fly out and suprise him somewhere!"

"Uh..."

"Well, after you solve your case, of course. But isn't that a great idea? I mean, I know he misses you, and I bet you miss him too, even maybe just a little bit—"

"Yeah—"

"I know he can be a lot to handle, but you're kind of used to him now, I guess. But he's been gone, and he's going all over the place, and you just said you need some time off, and maybe it would be fun to get away and see something new. And I know you have your case and everything—"

"Well—"

"But you and Detective Ryan and Detective Esposito are all really good, at least that's what Dad always says, so I bet it won't be too much longer until you solve it. And then you'll be free to take a few days off, right?"

"It's just not—"

"And I'm sure Dad would absolutely _love_ it! Can you imagine the look on his face if you just show up? He'd _love_ it! He gets so bored, and even if he's in some boring place, he can usually find something to do to make it fun. I remember this one time when I was little and there was this kind of boring town, but they had some kind of a mythical fish creature, and they made a thirty foot tall statue of it and you could even go inside of it! I mean, how many times do you get to see a thirty foot tall mythical fish, let alone go inside of it?"

"Alexis," Kate said, holding up her hand.

Blessedly, the girl stopped talking. "Yeah? Oh, sorry...was I rambling?" She had the grace to look a little embarrassed as she said, "I get like that sometimes when I get excited about something." She paused for a moment, and when she spoke again, she looked like she wasn't quite able to contain her excitement any longer. "But it really is a good idea, don't you think?"

"Uh...well..." How did she talk to Castle's daughter about this? How did she say, 'well, your dad might not want me to visit him and even if he did, me flying to meet him somewhere would make us too...involved and that freaks me out just a little'?

"That does sound like a good idea," she started tentatively, not wanting to hurt the girl or damper her excitement, but needing to bring her down to earth just the same. "Except for two things. Number one, we haven't solved the case yet, so I can't go anywhere, and two, uh...your dad's working, and I...really shouldn't...bother him. He...uh, I'm sure he has things he needs to do when he's on tour like that."

"No! I mean, yes, he has a few things to do, but he has lots of time to do nothing too. So you really should go visit him. When the case is done, of course," she added reasonably. "Just let me know when you're all done with the case and we'll plan it all out. Dad will be so surprised!" Then she took a bite and nodded cheerfully with a smile on her face, as if it was all decided and it was just the most reasonable thing in the world.

And as Kate gave up and started eating—because the breakfast was really good, after all—she wondered exactly how in the world those Rodgers/Castle women were so adept at bulldozing right through any and all of her objections.

She'd have to give that some thought. But right now, she was just going to eat. Because she couldn't think of how long it had been since the last time she'd had a decent breakfast.

And then, she felt the unmistakable flood of fortitude and resolve—fortitude and resolve that she hadn't felt in a while—to go into the precinct and solve this damn case already.

* * *

><p><em><strong>If you think back to the scene where Alexis asked her dad 'How do you know when you're in love?', you'll remember that he couldn't get a word in edgewise and she kept going on and on. That's how I tried to write the breakfast, 'most perfect idea' scene in this chapter. Beckett got a few words in, but not many! Hope the scene worked for you.<strong>_

_**And no, Castle knew nothing about Martha going out of town. All part of their nefarious plot, you know. I know they kind of floated past that with the Harry thing, but it'll come up again. And as I've said, there will also be more case stuff coming up, and it should start to get interesting. ;)**_

_**Now, if you're one of the several hundred people subscribed to this story, I'd love to hear from you! And I know there are quite a few new people who are following this, so please...don't be shy!**_

_**xxGoogiexx on twitter and tumblr**_


	32. Chapter 32

_**Sorry this chapter took sooooo long. For some reason, I had a really difficult time with this and the words/ideas would just not flow. We had a very dry month (June) where I live, so I guess my writing mojo was following the weather patterns: dried up.**_

_**And here's a big welcome to a few new readers! Thanks for trying out this fic, and I hope you continue reading. Your comments were very much appreciated!**_

_**Disclaimer: The usual: I own nothing to do with Castle.**_

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><p>"The guy was a freaking genius or something."<p>

Ryan and Beckett looked up from their computers. Esposito had been checking into more background on William Jackson, the son of the original fingerprint murder victim, Margo Carson, while Beckett dug into what she could find on MacGuinness' relationship with Carson. Ryan was doing one more scan of the victims, the causes of death and the methods that the killer used to kill them.

"A genius?" Beckett asked.

"Yeah. He was in some accellerated programs in his school. Mom apparently got him on the fast track when he was around ten. From what it looks like, Margo Carson was a good mom with some pretty bad judgement in men."

"MacGuinness?"

"Of course. Margo Carson had a good job, supported herself and her kid after the kid's father was killed. The kid scored really high on some tests, had a good teacher that saw some potential, and between the mother and the teacher, they really advocated for him. Over the course of his schooling, he was advanced enough that he was almost ready to graduate from high school when his mother was murdered."

"At sixteen?"

Esposito nodded. "But even while the kid was advanced academically, he still had some problems. Truancy, fights. And it looks like it all started the same time that Margo became involved with MacGuinness."

"Did the kid have a record?"

"No. The problems never got into the criminal realm, just school."

"So no fingerprints in the system?" Beckett surmised. Esposito shook his head. "Damn."

"So how long were the two of them involved?"

"Looks like from the time Jackson was about eleven. Then they broke up a few months before she was murdered. Apparently not soon enough though; there were several complaints filed about them; noise, fights, general domestic stuff. And then she was murdered."

"_After_ they broke up," Ryan observed.

Esposito went on to outline how the son moved in with a neighbor after his mother's murder, since there was no close family. It was a wonder he didn't end up in a gang or as a statistic, but he didn't. His mother had evidently given him a good enough foundation before she died that he was able to start college, getting straight As in all of his classes. He was working and still taking the occasional college class up until right before the time he disappeared. Nobody ever reported him missing.

"So he was smart. Would he have been able to pull off Emerson's electrocution thing?"

Esposito nodded. "From everything I can tell about the guy, he was some kind of a prodigy with anything mechanical, electric, electronic, scientific...you name it. And he disappeared six years ago. Who knows what the guy learned since then." He paused as something occurred to him, something he felt he was forced to voice. "_If_ the guy is still alive."

"You know," Ryan said, flipping through the files, "if you look at some of these murders, there actually _is_ an element of...shall we say, technological savvy to several of them. I mean, we had the strangulation and the pop and drop, and the guy who fell—or I guess was pushed—down the stairs, so those are pretty normal. But there's Ian Emerson and his fence electrocution, there's the elevator shaft guy, the pacemaker guy and the poisoning. Those people...their deaths weren't run-of-the-mill. They weren't ordinary. They took some higher level of expertise to carry out, some planning." He sighed as he looked at the other two. "It fits. And assuming he's still alive and just changed his identity, this has to be our guy. If he thought MacGuinness killed his mother, he had motive. He obviously was smart enough to engineer some of these things."

"But that brings us back to the original question: why now? Why not years ago?" Esposito asked. "Margo Carson was murdered in 1997. I know the rest of it fits, but hell...if you're going to off the guy, why wait so long?"

"And if he offed MacGuinness, why bother to kill all of the other people?"

"I know it doesn't all make sense," Beckett said, "but it's the best lead we've had so far. I just hope it leads to something concrete, moreso than the other leads that we've had with this case."

"But we don't know his new name," Esposito countered. "We have no way of finding him. William Jackson doesn't exist anymore."

"Correction," Beckett told him resolutely, trying to tamper down some of the frustration she was feeling. "He does exist, and we're _going_ to find him."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Of course, she didn't know exactly how they were going to find him, but she knew they would. She could feel it. They'd had so many weeks of nothing making sense with this case. But now, things were slowly starting to add up. They'd found the connection with MacGuinness. They'd found the supposed reason for the bloody fingerprints at the scene of every murder. They knew about William Jackson. They still didn't know where he was, but she just had the feeling that William Jackson was their man. There was just too much circumstantial evidence that pointed straight at him, like a divining rod pointed at water.

But they needed to know who he was, and where he was now.

And it was still frustrating. Even though she knew they would find him, she had to wonder when, how many victims he'd claim before they found him, and if they'd all be crazy and burned out by then.

They spent the rest of the day digging up everything they could on William Jackson, up until the time that he disappeared. Even though it was several years ago that he last existed as William Jackson, they were still able to talk to an old supervisor of his. And through the conversation with the supervisor, they realized that yes, William Jackson probably was still alive, somewhere. According to the former supervisor, he'd just "up and quit" one day, out of the blue, and had walked out, never to return. When they tried to contact him to arrange for him to pick up his things, they found the number had been disconnected. The supervisor had always wondered about it; Jackson was a good employee, even though he was eccentric and a bit odd. And he's never expected him to quit, or to disappear like that.

"So he...planned to disappear?" Beckett asked.

"Why else would he quit his job and disconnect his phone?"

"Maybe he just moved away or something," Ryan surmised.

Esposito shook his head. "Nope. No activity on the social since he disappeared. So however he's been living, whatever he's been doing, he's been doing all of that using some other name."

They were all silent for a bit, and then Ryan said, "So how do we find this guy's new name? We don't even have a recent picture of the guy."

Beckett pushed away from the table and stood up. "We continue to piece together what we know about him. There are clues; we just have to find them. Since MacGuinness seems to be the key, we should find out if there was anything odd going on with him before he died. Maybe Jackson left us a clue there. Also, he seems to have a fixation on names, with the whole John thing and how the initial letters of the last names of the vics spell out MacGuinness' name. He changed his name, but maybe he didn't change it too much. Esposito, can you search to see if there are any guys named 'Jackson Williams' that might fit our guy's description?"

Esposito nodded. "Good thought. On it. And maybe I'll throw in some other variations too. We could try John names, or Michael something."

She looked at Ryan. "Ryan, you might be onto something with the causes of death or the crime scenes. Keep looking into that angle. I'm going to see if there's anything else on Margo Carson, and then I'm going to go check in with the Captain and give him and update on where we are."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

That night, Beckett wasn't able to leave the precinct quite as early as she had the previous night, but she still saw no point in any of them putting in another late night. Sometimes you just needed to be fresh and the clues seemed to fall into place. At least that was how it seemed with this case, so she was going to go with what worked. And she was getting really sick of hanging around the precinct and getting nowhere. She was used to solving crimes within a few days, not spinning her wheels for weeks on end and getting almost nowhere.

She was surprised by the level of her disappointment when she got home, or rather, back to the loft, and Alexis, while bubbly and welcoming as usual, informed her that Rick was on a late flight somewhere and they wouldn't be able to video chat with him. "He said to say 'hi' though. He seemed really disappointed when he called. I know he was hoping that you might be here when you didn't answer your cell."

"Yeah, I saw he called. Five times in less than half an hour." She rolled her eyes and Alexis smiled. "I was in a meeting with the Captain, briefing him on the case."

"How is it going? Are you getting any closer to finding the killer?"

She heaved out a big sigh of frustration. "Yes and no. It seems that as soon as we get what seems like a good lead, it either goes nowhere because we're missing some vital piece of information, or the lead ends up opening a bigger can of worms with more questions."

"But it all means you're getting closer and closer, right?" Alexis asked, trying to find a bright spot.

Kate looked at the girl, suddenly grateful for the fact that she had her company, and nodded. "Yeah."

"Good. Just look forward to taking a break when this is all done. Go somewhere," she said cryptically, although Kate knew exactly what she was talking about from past conversations. "Go find someone else who just might happen to be really bored with his job right now, and might want some company from someone who needs to relax after a tough case." The ending statement was far less cryptic, and was punctuated with a little wink.

She decided not to touch that statement; after her remark to Castle that one night when they talked, when she realized that she was actually considering flying out to see him somewhere just like the celebrity obsessed groupie she never wanted to become, she'd tried to put that thought out of her head. She missed him, sure. She missed him a lot. But to fly out to see him? That would be...silly. Frivolous. And he'd be home soon enough, and they could see each other then.

Alexis had made her a plate of something to eat, so as she ate her dinner, she changed the topic back to the case, telling the girl about how they were looking into William Jackson, trying to find out where he was now. When she told her about the intricacy of some of the causes of death-the theory that Ryan had surmised, with the help of Esposito's research on Jackson-Alexis asked her to go over it with her. Then comically, they both looked down at the dinner that Beckett was still eating and said at the same time, "Later."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The next morning, she finally connected with Castle on a quick call. The call just started off on the wrong foot; she'd woken with a kink in her neck, she'd had a dream that it was two years later and they were still hunting for the killer, and then she'd stubbed her toe when she got up to take a shower. She enjoyed talking to him, having that brief connection despite the fact that they were so far away, but suddenly, and especially after her rough night, she was finding it harder and harder to rise above the frustration that was this case.

During the call, she very briefly informed him that they were still looking into William Jackson, and about Ryan's thought about how some, but not all, of the crimes had a more 'technical' nature to them, befitting Jackson's supposed intelligence. After she told him, he voiced the same thought that has been niggling at the back of her own mind: why would some of the crimes be so intricately planned, while others weren't?

"Look, the guy is smart. He _knows_ he's smart. With some of the crimes, he's showing off. Hell, he's showing off with all of them, just by virtue of getting away with them for so long," Rick told her. "So why would he go with the mundane for some?"

"That's the question. Duh. Got any grand insights?" she asked somewhat sarcastically.

"Fresh out," he replied, almost warily.

"Sorry. I just wish you really _did _ have some grand insight. But anyway, you actually think there's a reason to him changing up the causes of death like that? Other than being a psychopath, of course."

"Maybe he's just a psychopath with severe ADD who can't focus on one MO for several murders? I don't know. But it might not be a bad idea to check it out."

"Yeah, I suppose. Just one more thing that we don't know. One more thing that we have to dig into." Her voice held the frustration that had surfaced the night before with Alexis; the frustration that she felt at again having a lead, but then having that lead create more questions.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked softly, concerned.

"No, Castle, I'm not okay." She took a deep breath so she didn't yell at him. Her frustration wasn't his fault. "I want to catch this guy, not have to worry about finding him and worrying if he's going to kill again and what bizarre method he'll use for the next one. I want a day off. I want to not spend more time in the conference room of the precinct in one day than I spend in my apartment in one week. I want to solve this damn case!"

"Oh." He wasn't prepared for her outburst, especially not when they'd just been talking so normally, sort of building theory like they always did.

She was instantly sorry. "Look, Rick, I'm sorry. I just...I'm frustrated, and it hits me now and then."

Based on the unexpectedly positive response during one of their last conversations, he thought maybe he'd try again, and bring up the possibility of her visiting him. "Well, you could—"

Somehow, she knew what he was about to say; like father, like daughter. "Don't say it." She took a deep breath. "Look, Castle, I know you said something about it before...about me coming to visit you. But..." She ran a hand through her hair, trying to figure out a way to say it nicely. "That would be silly. You're on a book tour, for goodness sake. You don't need me hanging around you like some groupie. And I have this case—"

"Which won't go on forever—"

"True, but I also have my job, and you're...doing things, book tour things, and..."

He waited for her to finish, but when she didn't say anything, he prompted, "and it would be great to see each other again, without having to worry about dead bodies or nosy detectives interested in our private lives? Come on," he said, hesitating slightly, but then finished, "I miss you, Kate."

She huffed out another frustrated sigh. Simply put, she felt torn. "I miss you too, Castle. But that just isn't...practical. We don't know how long the case will last, and look, you're about half done with your tour anyway, aren't you?"

"Give or take, but the second half of this would be so much better if you...look, Kate." Being who he was, he switched tactics. "You could help me. If you don't come to visit me at least sometime, I'd be shortchanging my fans. And that would be all your fault."

"Oh, really?" she said pointedly.

"Really," he said, attempting for a serious, convincing tone. "As the tour goes on, I'll become bored and stressed. And that will make me resentful of my fans."

"Isn't it physically impossible to be bored and stressed at the same time?"

"You'd be surprised," he countered immediately.

"I'm sure I would. But if you resent your fans, I'm still not sure how I would be at fault for that."

"Because you could alleviate my boredom and stress," he reasoned. "But you're not."

"It seems to me that the well-being of your fans should be Paula's concern, not mine."

"Please, Kate, don't mention Paula when I'm fantasizing about you visiting me."

"Oh, you're up to fantasizing now, huh?"

"Kate, Kate. Don't you know that when it comes to you, my fantasies are neverending?"

"I should have known," she said, rolling her eyes on her end of the conversation.

"Kate..." he started, but then she interrupted him.

"Look, Rick, you're working, okay? I'm working. And even if by some miracle we happen to close this case, you're still going to be working. Let's just drop this, okay?"

"Kate..." he started.

"No." She huffed out another sigh of frustration, her previous ease found from their usual bantering now forgotten. "You have...commitments. I'll see you when you get back, okay?" She attempted to inject some practicality into her words; practicality that she really wasn't feeling. Because if she was really honest with herself, she would admit that she'd like nothing better than to forget everything and hop on a plane going to wherever he was. But she wasn't going to admit that, even to herself. That would be frivolous, and self-serving. And she had a case to solve, and besides, she wasn't a fangirl anyway. She could wait. She tried to convince herself that she could wait another month to see him, and that it would be just fine.

On his end of the phone call Rick was getting a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach when he heard her words. 'When you get back.' He'd been so happy—elated, actually—when she'd given him the 'maybe' the last time they'd talked about it. And now it seemed that it was the total opposite. She admitted that she missed him, but something was holding her back now. She'd already admitted that she was stressed from the case, and even though that was a big thing for her to admit that, he knew that she was still going into her 'withdraw mode', where she felt that she had to put aside her own life until she solved the case.

"Kate..." he said, trying one last time. "I've told you...my commitments, as you call them, would hardly interfere with you flying out to see me. Sure, I don't have a long enough break between things to actually fly home, but we could still spend some time together here...wherever 'here' might happen to be at the moment. Look," he told her, deciding to try a new tactic when he heard another frustrated sigh from her end of the phone. "Don't make any snap decisions now, okay? Let's not talk about it now. Let's just get that case solved, and then we can talk about it after that. No stress from the case, no interruptions." He let that sink in for a moment and then he said, "So tell me what my daughter has been cooking for you since you've been at my loft. Because let me tell you, I'm getting sick of room service."

And she sighed, grateful that he backed off on the visit thing, and began to taunt him with very descriptive comments about the chicken and pasta dish that Alexis had made the night before.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

As she stood in the hallway shortly after that, waiting for the elevator in Castle's building, her mind drifted once again to the case and the somewhat randomness of the MOs, with the bent toward the technical in some of the cases, and the seeming accidental aspect of the others. The accidental ones, like John Nowatowski's fall—or push—down the stairs, puzzled her. Why plan some of the murders so much and so intricately, and then seem to wait for a crime of opportunity for others? After all, the killer must have been targeting Nowatowski, because his name fit, but the guy was away from an established pattern; according to his wife, he never took the stairs. So how would their killer know that Nowatowski would be in that stairwell, at that particular time, so he could kill him and leave the bloody fingerprint?

Did the killer know him? Nowatowski never took the stairs. The thought kept circling around in her mind. Yet he had indeed taken the stairs that one night. And on that one night, he'd been murdered.

As she mulled over that thought, she realized that she'd been waiting for the elevator for quite a while, yet it hadn't arrived on her Castle's floor. Shrugging, she headed over to the stairwell. And as she did, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she got a strange feeling, kind of like deja vu.

Didn't Angie Nowatowski say that her husband called her and asked her to pick up his dry cleaning because he was stuck waiting for the elevator? The elevator that never seemed to come? Just like this elevator never seemed to come?

She entered the stairwell cautiously, even going so far as to unstrap her gun from her holster as she looked around. She felt kind of paranoid, but with thoughts of Nowatowski's crime scene running through her head, she thought 'better safe than sorry'. Seeing and hearing nothing, she quickly hurried down the few flights to the lobby, where she found a bit more activity than normal, with what looked like moving men unloading boxes from the elevator on dollies. Seeing one of the doormen, Rafi, with whom she'd become acquainted during her first stay at Castle's loft, she walked over to where he stood observing the movers.

"Rafi..." she started.

The young man caught sight of her and gave her a wide smile. "Detective...Kate! How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, Rafi, thanks. But do you have time to answer a question for me?"

"It would be my pleasure, ma'am. What can I do for you?"

"The elevator...I was waiting for it for a really long time, and it never came. Yet I see it's obviously working."

The young man got an apologetic look on his face. "Oh...I'm so sorry, ma'am! You must not have gotten the notice! On behalf of the building management, I apologize."

"Notice?"

"Yes. We have a tenant moving out, so we're using the freight elevator as well as the passenger elevator for smaller loads. So both elevators are reprogrammed to only stop at the ground floor and the third floor, where that particular tenant is. We sent out a notice informing all of the tenants, saying that that if they needed to use the elevator today, they should just call down using the house phone and we'll send the elevator up to them as needed. I do apologize again ma'am...I'd forgotten that you were staying here. I should have remembered to tell you so you weren't inconvenienced. And especially with your ankle problems!" he finished, remembering how she'd been on crutches a few months before.

"My ankle is great now, Rafi, so no problem there. I was just curious." But her mind was churning. "So the elevators can be programmed..." she said, thinking out loud.

"Well...yes. You know how sometimes they seem to return to the lobby after they let people out on a higher floor? That's all in the programming. Elevators in office buildings are usually programmed like that during the morning hours when a lot of people are coming in through the lobby and are going to work on higher floors. You're...uh...really interested in elevators, aren't you?" he asked after his explanation, obviously remembering when they'd met and referring to the when she'd asked him and Junior, the other doorman, about the operations of the elevator when she'd sat with them that one afternoon. She'd been interested in it at the time just because of the juvenile-delinquent-in-training in her building had rendered her own elevator inoperable with his vandalism, necessitating her stay at the Castle loft, but now that conversation came back to her.

She managed to smile at Rafi and remain outwardly calm as she replied, "Not normally, no, but I guess the topic of elevators somehow tends to come up when I'm talking with you. But Rafi...do you have a minute, or do you have to help out with this move?"

"Sure. I just have to stay near the house phone in case a tenant calls down." But just then, the phone did indeed ring. "Excuse me for a moment," he said as he stepped away.

She nodded at him, and then turned away and grabbed her phone, placing a quick call to Esposito.

"Esposito, it's Beckett. Do you have the file with Angie Nowatowski's number in it?"

"Who?"

"Angie Nowatowski...the stairwell vic's wife?"

"Oh...yeah. Here...uh..." he started, and then read off the number when he found it. "What's up?"

"Do you remember what she said about her husband waiting for the elevator? How he waited and the elevator never came, so he was going to use the stairs?"

"Uh...yeah, I guess. Why?" Esposito sounded a little bit intrigued.

"Didn't she say something about him catching it from a different floor?"

"I guess...maybe. But why are you worried about this guy's elevator habits? He was pushed down the stairs. Remember?" Espo sounded puzzled.

She sighed. "Look, Esposito...where are you?"

"Getting a cup of coffee and some donuts. I was hungry, and Castle isn't here to make breakfast for us, so—"

"Good. Can you call Ryan and meet me in the lobby of Castle's building?"

That was obviously not what he expected to hear. "Uh...Beckett? Did I hear you right? Did you say _Castle's_ building?"

"Yes, Esposito, Castle's building. Just get Ryan and get over here, okay?" she said before disconnecting the call, not even giving him a chance to respond.

Next, she placed a call to Angie Nowatowski, hoping that she'd find the woman still at home. She was in luck. After she identified herself, she apologized for the early call but asked the woman again about her last conversation with her husband.

The woman was obviously puzzled by the call and the request, but complied. "He was annoyed, because he wouldn't be able to pick up his drycleaning in time before the place closed. He asked me to do it."

"And he was annoyed because the elevator didn't stop at his floor?" Beckett prompted

"Uh huh. He said he'd been waiting for at least ten minutes, and it would just keep passing him by. Or passing his floor by. I joked with him, telling him that I was sure the elevator didn't like him and that's why it wouldn't stop."

When she heard the wife's explanation, Beckett started getting a little nervous feeling in her belly, like she got when she felt like she had a good lead on a case. But she tried to keep her words calm. "So the elevator was stopping on other floors?"

"I guess so. His building has the displays on every floor, so you can see what floor the different cars are on. John even said when I was on the phone with him, 'well, there it goes again'. He asked me to get his shirts, and then he said he'd go down a floor and catch the damn elevator there, because it was stopping on that floor and the one above him; just not on his floor. And he didn't want to go up, so he was going to walk down."

"Did that happen a lot? The elevator missing his floor, I mean."

"No...never. He always said the elevators were really quick. And there were four of them, so one of them would always be there within a couple of minutes. That's what bugged him so much; none of the four would stop, he said. He was even swearing at them a little, you know, like people do when they think that talking to a machine will make it work better."

After hearing Angie's explanation, Beckett could only think one thing: _Shut the front door_.

She murmured her thanks to their victim's wife, and leaned against a wall as she digested all that she'd just learned.

Nowatowski's death was _not_ a crime of chance after all. Their murderer had planned it, evidently by luring Nowatowski into the stairwell by messing with the elevator. Of course, she needed to talk to Rafi and run that past him; see if that was even possible. She didn't want to get her hopes up, but if she was on the right track, they may have just gotten a really good lead. And their suspect pool should have dwindled considerably; the number of people with knowledge of how to program elevators, especially in that particular building, couldn't be very big.

Rafi was still busy on the phone five minutes later when Esposito and Ryan walked into the lobby. Looking around, they spotted her and walked over.

"Okay, Beckett. We're here," Esposito said, pointing out the obvious in his you're-not-telling-me-everything voice. "But would you mind telling us exactly why we _are_ here?"

"Yeah, Beckett," Ryan added with something of a smirk. "And by the way, what are _you_ doing in Castle's building at 7:30 in the morning anyway?"

* * *

><p><em><strong>So...despite the wait, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. <strong>_

_**I had such a horrible time trying to make this chapter come together the way that I wanted it to. But I think I finally got it to a place where I like it reasonably well. Some of the items in this chapter are based on research, and some are based on imagination. Regardless, I hope it's believable (at least for a fanfic).**_

_**And remember, voting for the Castle Fan Awards closes TONIGHT! Go to .org. I have three stories that were finalists, so if you like my work, I'd love and very much appreciate your vote. Thanks!**_

_**Reviews/comments would be very much appreciated!**_


	33. Chapter 33

_**Thanks so much to the people who took the time to not only read the last chapter, but also review it. Your words do mean a lot. MarkC, you never cease to surprise me with how you leave such in-depth comments for each chapter. Thanks! And to the rest: Docvap, lkwill, janinsc, aussicate, someheartslove, dopeysac, Deb838, Jin589, I'm Widget, klindsay, pears61, emmy the vampire, AALiz and Steve...even though you may not say a lot, it's still nice to hear from you. And for those of you who don't like the frustration/angst, don't worry. It won't last forever.**_

_**And for everyone else...over 400 people have this story on an alert. I'd like to hear from you guys too.**_

_**Disclaimer: still have no claim over the characters.**_

* * *

><p><em>Previously: Nowatowski's death was not a crime of chance after all. Their murderer had planned it, evidently by luring Nowatowski into the stairwell by messing with the elevator. Of course, she needed to talk to Rafi and run that past him; see if that was even possible. She didn't want to get her hopes up, but if she was on the right track, they may have just gotten a really good lead. And their suspect pool should have dwindled considerably; the number of people with knowledge of how to program elevators, especially in that particular building, couldn't be very big.<em>

_Rafi was still busy on the phone five minutes later when Esposito and Ryan walked into the lobby. Looking around, they spotted her and walked over. _

_"Okay, Beckett. We're here," Esposito said, pointing out the obvious in his you're-not-telling-me-everything voice. "But would you mind telling us exactly why we are here?"_

_"Yeah, Beckett," Ryan added with something of a smirk. "And by the way, what are you doing in Castle's building at 7:30 in the morning anyway?"_

* * *

><p>She didn't know exactly how she was going to answer Ryan's question, and actually, she didn't really care right now. The more important thing was what she had just pieced together about Nowatowski's murder. But Ryan was smirking at her after his question, and she'd opened her mouth to give him some sort of answer when she spotted Rafi walking over to them, obviously finished with his phone call.<p>

She turned toward the young man. "Rafi, I'd like you to meet Detectives Esposito and Ryan. Guys, this is Rafi. He's one of the doormen here, but he's really pretty knowledgeable about quite a few things. He's been very helpful at answering my questions, and I think he's going to help us find our killer." When he heard her words, Rafi looked a little embarrassed at her praise. But then, he focused on one word and forgot about the scrutiny of the other detectives.

"Killer, ma'am?"

"Yes, Rafi. We're working a really...intense case, and based on what you've already told me, I think you can help." His eyes got big when she told him that, like he didn't quite believe what she was saying. He was just a doorman, after all. "Can you tell the other detectives what you just told me about how the elevator works? Specifically, how it can be controlled?"

After a few strange looks, he started talking somewhat hesitantly, still wondering how talking about elevators could possibly help catch a killer, but within a few minutes he was going on and was relating much of the information that he had just relayed to Kate.

When he finished, the guys looked at him briefly before looking at Beckett. "You wanted Nowatowski's wife's number a little while ago," Esposito reminded her. "So you think that something to do with the elevator has to do with his murder? Beckett, the guy was pushed down the stairs."

"There was more to it than that. I just confirmed it with the wife. Guys, she said that when she was talking to him, the vic mentioned that the elevator was stopping on other floors, but just not his." She paused a moment. "Don't you see? The killer _forced_ him into that stairwell by messing with the elevator. It wasn't random. And it _was_ at least somewhat technical, to make the elevator not stop on his floor."

"So our killer has to be someone with knowledge of elevators...like Rafi here," Ryan said, giving Rafi a glance as he said his name. But then when he saw the young man blanch, he quickly added, "Dude, don't worry, you're not a suspect."

"Rafi," Kate said, drawing the attention back to the case, "how do you program the elevators? You know, like you did today for the movers?"

With all of the attention again focused on him, he haltingly began to explain about the control panel, even motioning them over to the back room where the control console was kept. Of course, he told them, not all buildings had the nice touch-screen control panels like this one did, but they all had some form of control panel with varying ways of stopping cars or prohibiting public access for maintenance or security reasons, or just to control traffic flow.

Once they had all of the information that they could get from Rafi, they were ready to set out for the Langley Building, which was where Nowatowski's firm was located. They were all fully in case mode then, digesting what Rafi had told them, and like Kate, the boys also now had a bit of a nervous edge to them, wondering if they had just caught the break they so desperately wanted. So when Rafi called to Kate as they left, he startled them a bit. But the words that he spoke were even more startling to Ryan and Esposito. "You have a really nice day, Miss Kate. I hope you catch your killer. And if you need anything else before tonight, just let me know. I'm working a double shift, so I should be here when you come back. And Junior's scheduled to work with me later, and I know he'd love to see you again or help if you need anything."

She inwardly cringed at his words, knowing there was no way that the other detectives hadn't heard, but she found a smile for Rafi anyway. "Thanks, Rafi, for all of your help. We'll let you know how it turns out." And she turned back toward the lobby door, she spared a quick glance for Ryan and Esposito, who were now staring at her with apprising looks on their faces, brows furrowed and arms crossed. Not waiting for them to start grilling her, she told them matter-of-factly, "I'll meet you two at the Langley Building. I'm going to stop and get some coffee first." And then she was out the door.

And Ryan and Esposito were left standing there, staring after her. When she was finally out of sight, the guys turned to look at each other, and Ryan finally said, "She...uh...knows Castle's doormen? By name?"

Esposito glanced quickly over at Rafi, who was now talking to the moving men again. "Looks that way. And they apparently know her. And 'love to see her'." He did air quotes when he said the words.

"And she was here this early in the morning? That just looks like..." he trailed off, obviously stunned by the conclusions he was drawing.

"I'll tell you what it looks like, bro. It looks like Beckett has been holding out on us. Big time."

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><p><em><strong>Thanks for reading! Comments would be appreciated and serve as wonderful motivation for me.<strong>_

_**(Oh, and Steve found a typo in the last chapter. It was the result of my keyboard not liking vowels over the last several weeks; I hit the keys, yet no vowels appear. So if you see a missing e, i, or sometimes o, please let me know. I try to catch them as I (don't) type them, but I do miss a few now and then, obviously.)**_


	34. Chapter 34

_**Thanks for all of the positive response on the last chapter. It's so nice to read your comments...I appreciate them like you appreciate an air conditioner on a 100 degree day. Really. And considering that our air conditioning in our house died right as the heat wave struck our area, I REALLY know how much you appreciate an air conditioner.**_

_**Disclaimer: No ownership of Castle here.**_

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><p>Somehow, she beat them to the Langley building. When the guys walked in, Beckett was already in a conversation with one of the guards at the front desk, a woman who looked to be in her mid-forties. As they walked up, she started moving around to the back of the desk, where some of the building's system controls were housed. She caught sight of them and motioned them over, introducing them to the security guard, just as the building manager came out of his office.<p>

They explained that their questions were regarding the death of John Nowatowski, and the guard and building manager became a little more alert. It wasn't every day that a man was found dead in their office building. And then when police show up and start questioning your operations regarding that death...well, that makes you sit up and take notice.

At the detectives' request, they very cooperatively showed the detectives the elevator control panel, which was one much like Rafi had showed them. After asking about any employees that might have the knowledge to work it, they determined that none of the personnel fit the age or gender requirements of their suspect, the elusive William Jackson. They even showed the manager the old picture of Jackson that they were able to find, and he didn't look familiar to either.

"Who was working on the night of Mr. Nowatowski's accident?" Esposito asked the manager.

He brought up the work logs, and found out that the female guard who stood with them now had been on duty, along with a part-timer who was approaching retirement age. The maintenance man she remembered being on duty with her at the time was a young man, only about twenty-five years old; once again, someone else who didn't fit the description of William Jackson. It looked like they were striking out again.

That is, until they brought up the elevator activity logs. The building manager was trying to nicely prove to them that their theory was obviously unfounded. The logs showed usage and floors accessed, and during the time in question, it did appear that no elevators stopped on the twenty-second floor for a time period of approximately an hour and twenty minutes. "Well, I'll be..." the manager said, obviously surprised.

"So how would the elevator get reprogrammed like that? It's obvious that it was. Ms. Saunders," she said, turning to the guard, "Do you remember anyone else who may have been working that night? Anything unusual that may have happened?"

"Yeah...I do remember, actually," she said, seeming almost a bit surprised that she could recall the day. "A lot of times, the days just seem to mesh together, you know? But that night, there _was_ something weird. The computers...they just went crazy. We had to restart everything."

"Is that unusual?"

"Well, yes. We do weekly maintenance on the systems, so they're pretty reliable in between those times. We never had anything like that happen before. George and I—he was working with me—we were joking around, wondering if there were aliens landing on the building and they took over the computers." She let out a little chuckle as she thought back. "It was just so odd, all of the systems going haywire at once, and there wasn't even a storm or anything."

"So there wasn't anyone else back here with you? Anyone that had access to the controls?"

"No. Nobody." She shook her head.

They stood around for a moment, and then Ryan had a thought. "Mr. Dougherty," he said, addressing the building manager, "is _this_ the only way that the elevators can be controlled?"

He thought for a moment, and then he said almost nonchalantly, "Well, there's the big room in the basement, but the systems company is the only one that uses that room with any semblance of a regular basis. We generally do all of the controls from the terminals here; they're a lot easier to use."

"The systems company?" Beckett wanted to know. If Castle was there, he'd say his spidey sense would be tingling. Hell, _her_ spidey sense was tingling when the manager mentioned a basement room.

"Yes, you know, those companies that have a lot of integrated systems...HVAC, security, even the elevator maintenance. It's easier and more cost effective to have one company take care of all of that."

Sometimes it was just a matter of continuing to ask questions. "And that company—their employees have access to this room?"

"Of course. They're under contract for maintenance, and that includes semi-regular checks of all of the systems to ensure that everything is in proper working order. Our tenants are assured of no downtime in their leases. We have the company under contract to do regular checks to be sure that all of the systems are kept in tip-top shape."

"Mr. Dougherty, we'll need to see that room." Beckett's voice was like steel; not angry, but forceful with her desire to catch their killer.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The basement room was what you'd expect from an electronic control center located in a basement: dark, no windows, cold and containing a _lot_ of complicated-looking electronic equipment (with what Kate was sure Castle would think were a lot of really cool lights). The building manager directed them to the elevator controls. "Everything that you need is right there," he said, pointing to some equipment in the corner. "But I'm not sure how this is going to help you. Like I said, nobody comes down here. And the door is locked anyway."

"Mr. Dougherty," Beckett said off-handedly as she walked into the room and started looking around. "With all due respect, someone altered the controls on your elevators—which you, yourself verified from the log—and that led to Mr. Nowatowski's death. We believe Mr. Nowatowski was lured to that stairwell by the elevators not stopping on his floor. By your own admission and what Ms. Saunders said, that reprogramming wasn't done at the terminals on the ground floor. So it had to have been done here. Possibly during the time when the computers went down?" She looked at the man, and she could see the moment of realization when he understood what she was telling him.

His eyes got just a little larger in disbelief. "Detective, are you talking about..._murder_? In my building? That Mr. Nowatowski's death somehow wasn't...an accident?"

In her mind, she wondered how on earth this man could possibly manage the building operations when he'd been having such a hard time figuring out why they were there. Duh. But then again, she _did_ have to explain her theory about the elevator programming to Esposito and Ryan too, and they'd been as involved in the case as she was, from the start. So she supposed she should cut the guy some slack. "Yes, Mr. Dougherty. That's exactly what we're saying. And that's why we need to have CSU come over here and dust for fingerprints and see if we can find any physical evidence that our...suspect may have left behind. Do we have your permission?"

"Yes, yes of course," the man replied, now obviously a little nervous that his building may have been the scene of a murder.

"And I'll also need the contact information for your systems company...the ones who do the maintenance on the elevators and the other equipment? We're going to need lists of the people who service everything."

The manager left then with Ryan, to go back up to the lobby, where Mr. Dougherty could check on the contact information and Ryan could get a cell signal to call for a CSU team. That left Beckett and Esposito in the basement room, and by unspoken agreement, they weren't going anywhere. Now that they had the potential of a promising lead, there was no way they were going to leave this room until it was processed.

But of course, that left Beckett alone with a still very curious Esposito, and there was nowhere to go. She walked around the room and was making a few comments, hypothesizing about their killer when she noticed that Esposito wasn't responding. She turned around to find him leaning against a section of the cement wall, arms crossed over his chest, staring at her. And he had something of a smirk on his face, if she wasn't mistaken.

"What?" she asked him. "Got any better ideas?" she asked, referring to her musings about the case.

"Oh, no, not about that." He pushed off the wall and took a few steps toward her, but the smirk never left his face. "I was just thinking that it should take CSU at least a half hour to get here, even with the rush that Ryan is putting on the request. So..." he said, nodding a bit, "I think it's the perfect time for you to tell me what you were doing in Castle's building at 7:30 in the morning, how you happen to know Castle's doormen by name, and how_ they _know _you_ as well as they seem to."

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><p><em><strong>Thanks for reading! Please feel free to send any comments my way. I LOVE to read each and every one of them!<strong>_


	35. Chapter 35

_**Hey, everyone. Here's another chapter. The several people who wanted to know how Kate would handle the confrontation with Esposito...well, now you can find out. **_

_**Thanks to those who took the time to leave me a note about the last chapter. You really make my day when you leave me a note with some feedback. I'm glad some people seemed to like it; overall response has really been down lately. I hope it's just because people are on vacation with no internet connections or something like that.**_

_**Disclaimer: Standard...I don't own anything to do with Castle.**_

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><p><em>Previously: <em>

_"What?" she asked him. "Got any better ideas?" she asked, referring to her musings about the case._

_"Oh, no, not about that." He pushed off the wall and took a few steps toward her, but the smirk never left his face. "I was just thinking that it should take CSU at least a half hour to get here, even with the rush that Ryan is putting on the request. So..." he said, nodding a bit, "I think it's the perfect time for you to tell me what you were doing in Castle's building at 7:30 in the morning, how you happen to know Castle's doormen by name, and how they know you as well as they seem to."_

* * *

><p>Oh, great. He wasn't giving up on this, was he? She'd put them off back at Castle's building, but it appeared that the topic wasn't far from Esposito's mind, for him to ask about it again at the first possible opportunity.<p>

Now that she _could_ think about the circumstances, she had to admit that she should never have had the guys meet her at Castle's. But she was so caught up in the potential breakthrough that was gelling in her mind that she didn't think past that. She didn't want them all to go back to the precinct to start digging into the whys and wherefores of elevator operations, not when Rafi was right there to answer their questions. And Castle's loft was closer for them all anyway.

"It's really not that big of a deal, Esposito." She rolled her eyes and tried to sound bored with the question and as nonchalant as the building manager had sounded when he told them about the basement control room.

"Really." It was a statement, not a question, and one that said that he didn't believe a word she was saying.

"Yes, really." She didn't say any more; thinking that letting him wonder or try to drag it out of her might be best.

"So, if it's not such a big deal, then why were you there? I mean, seeing that...you there, so early in the morning...you know, people would think that you were getting a little cozy with Castle. Like maybe you moved into his loft or something." He narrrowed his eyes and gave a little nod of his head.

She shook her head in an exasperated response to his nod. "If 'people' are wasting their brain space contemplating my whereabouts, Esposito, then I'd say that maybe those 'people' need to get a life."

"So why were you there?" This time he was a little more blunt.

"In Castle's lobby? Duh, Esposito. I was breaking this case wide open." And then, with a smirk, she added, "while you were apparently getting donuts."

He ignored her jibe about the donuts, except for a little glare in her direction. "So you just happened to wake up this morning and think 'oh, I bet the key to this case can be found in Castle's building'?"

She made a show of thinking about what he'd said. "Yup, that about sums it up," she told him with a cheery nod.

He glared at her again. "Beckett, by my calculations, we have at least another twenty minutes until CSU gets here. So we can do it the easy way, and you can just level with me, or we can do it the hard way."

She stared back at him, finally rolling her eyes again and letting out a little huff. "God, Esposito, you're such a girl sometimes...wanting the dish on whatever you think is going on with me in that not-so-pure brain of yours." She took a step toward him. "Martha had to go out of town, and she asked me if I'd stay at the loft for a few days, just so Alexis had an adult there at night."

He stared at her, and when she didn't say anything else, he prompted impatiently, "And?"

"And what?"

"Come on Beckett. There has to be more to the story. You expect me to believe that Mama Castle just asked you to stay there—"

"Well, no," she interrupted.

"No what?"

"No, she didn't ask me to stay there. The words that come to mind are 'assumed', 'railroaded', 'steamrolled' or 'coerced'."

"So she just called you up and...told you that you'd be staying with Little Castle? In Castle's loft?"

"Where else should I stay with her? It _is_ her home, after all."

"Beckett..."

"Esposito..." she matched.

He decided to change tactics then, going for the I'm-your-buddy/good cop routine. He gave her a little smile. "Come on, Beckett, we're all family. Even Castle is pretty much one of us now. We got your back, Beckett...you know that. You can tell me what's going on. So," he paused and continued to try to look like the friendliest, most trustworthy guy in the world. "You living with Castle now?"

She so wanted to shake her head. Or maybe she just wanted to shake some sense into him. Did he _really_ think she wouldn't see through his abrupt change in attitude, or realize that he was just using the same interrogation tactics that she, herself, used? But she refrained from letting him know any of that; she realized she was having just a little bit of fun watching him get frustrated with her answers, especially when they were all true. That was the best part of the whole thing

"Nope," she told him, shaking hre head. "Can't be living with Castle, because Castle isn't even around now. You know that."

She saw his eyes flash with something when she evaded what he was asking, yet again, even though it was the truth. But then he recovered and put the 'good cop' face back on again. She realized she was almost having a bit of fun, watching him trying to get her to confirm his suspicions about her and Castle.

"But you _are_ staying at the loft?"

"Espo, do you need a hearing check? Because I already said yes, I'm staying at the loft for a few days. For Alexis."

"And Mrs. R got you to do that?"

She noddd. "Somehow, although I'm still not quite sure how it all happened. A word of advice, Esposito? If Martha ever wants you to do something, just agree. Don't even try to question it, because it most likely wouldn't work anyway."

"What? Oh, never mind. What about Castle?"

"Well, he's on his book tour. You know that."

"Yeah, but...look, Beckett. You're staying in the guy's house—"

"After being asked to stay with Alexis. Asked by her grandmother, I'll remind you. And Castle didn't even know about it. Martha called me and I'm the one who had to tell him, and he was pretty surprised, let me tell you."

"So you talked to him then, huh?" He got a gleam in his eye.

"Yes, Esposito, I talked to him. He's my partner, and I do talk to him, you know." And at mentioning him directly, suddenly she was swamped with another feeling she was definitely not going to voice to Esposito. 'And I miss him too', she thought.

He gave her a steely gaze again. "I really don't know why you're holding out on me, Beckett."

She smiled at him, hoping that the smile would take the edge off. She didn't want to _seem_ like she was hiding something, and if she got angry, it would seem like that. "Esposito, I'm staying at the loft for a few days, to be with Alexis at night while Martha is away. Castle is...somewhere, on his book tour. That's it. Any other questions?"

He thought about it for a few seconds, and then said, "Yeah. The doorman...Rafi? He knew you, and you knew him, by name. Now I don't usually know other people's doormen by name. And he said it's been a while since that other doorman saw you. So what's up with that? Were you staying with Little Castle some other time too?"

"I...met...his doormen before, yes." He would have to remember Rafi's comment about Junior, now wouldn't he?

"When?" he asked simply.

"I don't know...a couple of months ago?"

"You had conversations with Castle's doormen a couple of months ago?"

"Well...yeah." She frantically thought about how she could spin it. "Uh...I went to the loft...for dinner—"

"Oh, really?" Esposito said, with a different kind of gleam in his eye, like he was onto something. "Were there candles? Soft music playing?"

Now it was her turn to glare, as she remembered their previous method of dealing with the guys...just use honesty, with a few creative omissions. "Oh, can it, Esposito. Castle was carting me around when my ankle was out of commission, remember? He fed me dinner at his loft a few times, so I wouldn't have to worry about hobbling around the kitchen on my bum ankle." She saw his eyebrows raise as she said that, knowing where his mind was going. And then, just to annoy him, she said, "It was really fun watching Martha and Alexis gang up on Castle."

He didn't say anything, but she knew from the look on his face that she'd burst his romance bubble by mentioning that Martha and Alexis were part of what he'd already deemed in his own mind was a romantic dinner for Castle and her at his loft.

"So you know his doormen because you visited Castle's loft for dinner once or twice?" He sounded disbelieving.

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

He shook his head in frustration at what he perceived as her evasions, and, after shooting one more glare in her direction, he went over to look at the controls that Mr. Dougherty, the building manager, had pointed out to them.

Nothing more was said about Castle or her personal life until Ryan and the CSU team found them twenty minutes later. While the room was dusted for prints and other potential evidence, Beckett called the Captain, who in turn briefed the Mayor, who then used his clout to put the highest priority on processing the evidence that was being gathered in the basement control room.

By early afternoon, they were running prints in the computer. There were quite a few different prints that they were able to get, and after getting a briefing on how the controls worked, flagged prints from several different areas, such as certain switches and buttons, as high priority for processing.

Kate had tried to call Rick a few times to give him an update on the case, but she had to settle for leaving a message when he didn't answer. She didn't say too much, but just that they may have found a good lead for the case. And then, just to mess with him for a little bit, she told him that she was so grateful to his captivating doormen, and went on for a bit about how they just so helpful with her case! Remembering his reaction when she'd talked to Rafi and Junior that one afternoon, she thought that if that comment didn't make him call her back right away, nothing would.

At five in the afternoon, the print matches started coming back. A few weren't in the system, and there were quite a few from personnel who worked for the systems company. Because the company had contracts with government buildings, all of their employees had to be fingerprinted and have background checks run.

As the first print matches came in, they started combing through the records and information of all of the people. The vast majority of th people didn't have records, so it was harder to find more in-depth information on them. Beckett was grabbing something from the records room in the basement around eight o'clock that evening when she apparently missed a call from Rick; her cell phone didn't have a signal down there. Castle's message was just as she predicted, happy that she'd caught some sort of break in the case but almost frantic with curiousity over how one of his doormen could have helped her. And then, before asking him to call her back, he muttered a pouty-sounding statement about not knowing what was so damn captivating about his doormen anyway. She listened to the message as she got off the elevator, back on the homicide floor, smiling as she thought of Castle and how she was still able to mess with him even though he was a few thousand miles away. It felt good, but damn, she wished he was here right now.

She walked back into the bullpen with the file that she'd gone to retrieve, and met the excited gazes of Ryan and Esposito as they looked at something on Ryan's computer. "God, Beckett! Took you long enough!" Ryan said as he motioned her over. "Get over here...you have to see this."

"Did you find something?" she asked.

"Just look at this," Esposito told her, pointing at the screen.

When she registered what she was looking at, her mouth dropped open. "That's him. That just _has_ to be him."

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><p><em><strong>There you go, Castle fans. Another chapter down.<strong>_

_**Hope you enjoyed it. And as always, please let me know what you think of the story, how it's going, if you liked or hated anything in particular, etc. And especially if you just decided to suscribe to the story, let me know what you think.**_

_**Thanks for reading.**_


	36. Chapter 36

_**Such awesome response for the last chapter! Well, mostly awesome. But, even though some anonymous readers are obviously not reading this story any longer, I can tell everyone else that this story has been planned out and no, I'm not dragging it on for the sake of dragging it on. Way back when I wrote chapter 2 and introduced Rafi and Junior, I'd always planned for them to help break the case (they are captivating, after all LOL). And Beckett's familiarity with them was going to be the first clue to the boys that maybe a little more is going on with Beckett and Castle than what they're admitting. So to those of you who ARE stll reading this, thanks. Keep reading, because we are moving along quite nicely now. (And isn't that how it often happens in real life? Things drag for a while, and then everything happens at once.) **_

_**We have extremely teeny weeny, minute spoilers for Anatomy of a Murder in this chapter.**_

_**Disclaimer: the very mundane, standard, and often-said: I don't own anything to do with Castle.**_

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><p><em>Previously:<em>

_She walked back into the bullpen with the file that she'd gone to retrieve, and met the excited gazes of Ryan and Esposito as they looked at something on Ryan's computer. "God, Beckett! Took you long enough!" Ryan said as he motioned her over. "Get over here...you have to see this." _

_"Did you find something?" she asked._

_"Just look at this," Esposito told her, pointing at the screen._

_When she registered what she was looking at, her mouth dropped open. "That's him. That just has to be him."_

* * *

><p>They were looking at the computer monitor, at the file of a man who matched one of the fingerprints found on the elevator controls. It was one of the last of the 'priority' fingerprints that they'd flagged, and the computer had found a match.<p>

"Seriously? _Seriously?_" Beckett said, sounding a little bit like Nurse Greg from the prison break case they'd worked a few months before. "You've GOT to be kidding." They'd been searching for this guy—William Jackson—for what seemed like forever (even though it was only a few days since they'd pinpotinted him as their most likely suspect), and _this_ was his name now?

How the hell had they _not_ figured this out before now?

"Carson Johnson," Esposito said, shaking his head. "It all fits, even the guy's supposed age. He changed his name, took his mother's last name as his first name, along with, yet again, one more version of the name 'John' as his last name."

Ryan was shaking his head, and voiced the thought that was going through all of their brains at that moment, as they stared at the computer screen: "This is just so lame. It's so obvious. Why didn't we find him before now?" He gestured toward the screen. "How could we miss that?"

Beckett made it a trio of shaking heads. "Hindsight is 20-20. We were on the right track with him changing his name to something...we just didn't anticipate all of the options." She got a steely look on her face before she took a deep breath and took charge. "Okay. I'm going to work on getting a surveillance detail on Jackson—or now Johnson—tonight, as well as any court orders we need to get any other information on him. Ryan, dig up anything you can on the guy...any current stuff. Espo, check out background on him. See how far back his life goes...the records, that is. Employment history; anything. We can't screw this up, so we can't move on him yet until we know more. But we can find out what we can on him and we can certainly start keeping tabs on him."

"What about the rest of the fingerprint information that's coming in from the control room?"

"Run the priority prints, but let's leave the rest of it for after we have more information on Jackson. Or Johnson."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

She trudged back to the loft at 11:00 at night, after having set up the surveillance detail on their suspect. Esposito and Ryan had dug up a fair amount of information on the man, and it came as no surprise to anyone when the records for Carson Johnson only went back to a certain point. But there was nothing they could do tonight, certainly not until they had more information. They had the surveillance detail on the guy, so if he happened to make a move tonight, they'd know. But they wanted—needed—more background, and they weren't going to get it at that time of night. And they all needed some rest, because if they were on the right track with the man known as Carson Johnson, they were going to have a long day ahead of them tomorrow.

She'd texted Alexis that they might have a break in the case, and that she shouldn't wait up for Kate. Kate felt badly that she was supposed to be at the loft to stay with the girl, but didn't even make it back there at a decent time. And then she felt worse when she walked through the door and saw Alexis asleep on the couch. Still, even with her guilt, she felt something inside of her at seeing the sleeping teenager; she realized that however temporary it was, it was nice to have someone to come home to.

She kneeled down by Alexis and gently shook her awake. "I'm home, sweetie. Come on, wake up. You should go up to your bed."

Alexis opened tired eyes to her. "Huh? Oh, hi. You're home. Uh..." She paused and looked around, obviously trying to wake up. "Did you catch the guy?"

"No, but we think we know who he is. And he's being watched. Now come on...up to bed. We're both going to have early mornings." She helped her off the couch and ushered her toward the stairs.

"Kate?" Alexis stopped at the first landing and turned around. "Did you talk to Dad?"

She shook her head. "No, just messages. We were never able to connect."

"Oh. Too bad. The last time I talked to him, he seemed kind of bummed about that. He really wanted to know what's going on with the case." She took a step upstairs before adding, "And he said that I should tell you that he really missed you, and that...now, this is kind of a strange message to pass along you, and I don't think I really want to know what it means, but he said he can be really captivating too?"

Levity. Even when the guy was across the country, he could always provide some humor, even just to make her smile. He was obviously still a little bit bothered by her reference to Rafi the doorman earlier in the day. "Don't worry, Alexis. It's just an inside joke. But maybe I'll give him a quick call now before I go to sleep."

"Can't. Late flight to Albuquerque. He's there for a day and then he's going to Vegas right after that."

Kate was hit with an unexpected stab of disappointment to find out that she couldn't talk to him then. "Oh, well then. I guess I'll just go to sleep. Goodnight."

And after she was lying in Castle's bed, trying to shut her mind down so she could fall asleep, her mind happened to wander to Castle's itinerary, what Alexis had just told her. And if her memory of United States geography was correct, Castle's flight path from Albuquerque to Las Vegas would take him right over the Grand Canyon. With the special significance of that place, and what that place represented to the two of them, she wondered if the thought would cross his mind like it was crossing hers.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

She needn't have wondered about Castle not catching the significance of his flight plan. At 35,000 feet in the air, approximately thirty minutes before she settled herself into his bed, Castle was listening to the pilot's voice over the PA of the plane. "Ladies and gentlemen, if you care to look out the right side of the plane, you may be able to catch a glimpse of the Grand Canyon in the waning light of the day. The remainder of our flight into..." As soon as he heard the words 'Grand Canyon', Castle didn't hear any more of the pilot's words as he wistfully thought of Kate back home, and hoped they'd actually be able to connect on the phone the next day. And he tried to keep his thoughts away from the fact that she was sleeping in his bed at his home, without him.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Kate was jolted from her slumber at ten minutes before five the next morning by the shrill ringing of her phone.

After she answered, she had to work to process the voice on the other end; it wasn't familiar to her.

"Detective Beckett, this is Officer Jeremy Mason. My partner and I are the surveillance detail on Carson Johnson? I'm sorry to bother you at this hour, but you asked to be informed of anything suspicious. I'm not sure...I mean, he hasn't don't anything really bad or anything, but it's just..." The young officer sounded unsure of himself.

"What happened?"

"About an hour ago, Mr. Johnson exited his apartment carrying a bag. He got in his car and drove out to Flushing, and he's currently loitering around a motorcycle that's parked on the street. We observed him removing the helmet that was on the bike and putting it in a dumpster down the street."

"He stole the helmet and threw it away?" she asked, confused.

"Yes, it appeared that way."

"And he's just loitering?"

"Well, sometimes he moves around and appears to look at the mechanics of the bike a bit, you know, like a guy would do when he's trying to fix the engine or something? But then he sits down again."

"Did you run the license plate of the bike, Mason?"

"Yes. It took us a while before we could see the plate well enough...we don't want to get to close, you know...but the bike is registered to a Jack Stanton."

Jack Stanton. Jack...Jack was a nickname for John, she thought. And for the last name...what was the next letter they suspected? Nowatowski, then Emerson, then...S. He would do an 'S' name next.

Stanton started with an S.

Jack Stanton could be their next victim if they didn't move fast enough.

As the connection gelled in her brain, she scrambled out of bed. "Mason, don't let him go anywhere. Keep eyes on him and if he tries to leave, you detain him."

"Our orders were to observe only," the young officer reminded her, sounding somewhat nervous. "No contact, Detective."

"Mason, I'm overruling that order. I'll be there as soon as I can. And I'm going to call for backup for you and your partner. You have to keep him there, do you understand? You saw him steal the helmet...use that if you have to." And then thinking of their suspect's intelligence and cunning, not to mention the physical ability she knew he had to have to torture MacGuinness like he did, she cautioned, "And don't underestimate him, Mason. If you have to approach him, be ready." Taking a breath, she took a chance, hoping to convey the gravity of the situation, by telling him, "Mason, we suspect this guy has killed over a dozen people. Be careful. Backup is coming. Don't let him leave." Then as an afterthought, she added, "And don't let anything happen to that bike. Don't even touch it. It's evidence."

She hung up with Officer Mason after getting his location, and then as she threw on some clothes, she placed a call to Esposito. She explained the situation quickly, and told him to call Ryan and meet her in Flushing ASAP.

She barely remembered Alexis, but cognizant of her responsibility, she ran up the stairs and gently knocked on the teen's door before cracking it open. The girl looked up sleepily and Kate quickly explained the situation before telling her that she had to run out. She was in her car and headed to Flushing within five minutes of waking Alexis up.

As she navigated the streets in the early morning hours, she realized that finally, it looked like they were all going to get a closer look at their elusive 'John Killer'.

* * *

><p><em><strong>For those shippers (and I know most of you are), I know this didn't have any shippery moments. But they're coming, I promise. But she has to solve the case first...you know she does. She'd never leave without solving the case. <strong>_

_**I'm still amazed to be getting story alerts for this, even 35 chapters into the story. Not what I expected, but cool.**_

_**So...thoughts? Constructive comments are always appreciated! **_


	37. Chapter 37

_**Thanks for all of the reviews and the continued alerts that I'm getting for this story. It's great to see that people are still finding the story and are liking it. And quite a few of you caught my somewhat liberal use of the word 'home' in the last chapter. Since I just threw it in there, I was wondering how many people would catch it. But I was going for the contrast of earlier chapters, where she resisted the idea of staying in the loft, to her willingly staying there now and not freaking out (or even realizing) when other people used that word, to the point of unconsciously using it herself.**_

_**One note: when I use the word 'bike', I mean motorcycle. I know when Beckett has talked about her Harley on the show, she's referred to it as a 'bike', so I figured that would be the way she would refer to this one.**_

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><p>Beckett used the drive to make calls for backup, but stressed the need for the quiet approach. No sirens.<p>

Belatedly, she realized that she should have taken her bike. Her car was unmarked, but it was still a cop car and would no doubt be more suspicious than her bike.

And that brought her mind to what Officer Mason had said about the motorcycle, where Johnson/Jackson was loitering. Why would the guy steal the helmet, and why would he be loitering around the bike? It had something to do with the next intended victim...she was sure of that. From the check of the plates, that much was obvious. But as she drove and tried to visualize the scene in her mind, it came to her when she put it together with some of the other victims, and when she remembered Officer Mason's words: "...like a guy would do when he's trying to fix the engine or something..."

And she knew.

He wasn't trying to _fix_ the bike. _He was trying to booby-trap it_, she realized with a start, unconsciously pushing her foot down on the accellerator just a bit more. He wanted to cause the bike to malfunction, somehow. And with no helmet, the rider, presumably Jack Stanton, would be at a greater risk of a head injury if there was an accident. And to everyone else, it would look like an accident. Just an accident. Just a random, isolated event. Just like Nowatowski, just like other victims that were made to look like accidents. And he would have gotten away with another murder.

But not this time. Now they knew how he worked.

She knew roughly where they were, and she purposely parked a few blocks away. Her trained eye saw the other officers, and then she got a text from Esposito and Ryan and found them. She briefed them on her suspicions about what Jackson was doing with the bike, and although their eyes widened a bit at the direction her suspicions had taken, after a few moments they were forced to agree with her. They'd been tracking this guy for weeks and were slowly finding out more about how he operated, and they had to admit that her theory fit what they knew about the guy.

When they met up with the first backup unit on the scene, she was handed an ear-mic that was patched into Officer Mason, who was still watching their suspect with his partner. All of this was done almost silently, in deference to the need to provide adequate backup but not give themselves away. She was itching to actually see the scene herself, finally being so close to their suspect, but she knew she had to hang back. After attaching the ear-mic, she identified herself and Officer Mason briefed her that the suspect now was resting behind the cover of the stairway in front of the next address on the block, to the north. The suspect had a view of the bike, and seemed to be waiting for something, just staring at the bike. He was doing nothing that was overtly dangerous or threatening looking. And even though he could see the bike plainly, nobody would see him in the early morning darkness, lit only by the street lights, unless they looked for him.

Then, while she was still trying to figure out the best way to approach him, she heard Officer Mason's next words, spoken quickly and with a discernible edge, which almost bordered on frantic. "Detective, a man just exited the building by where the bike is, and he's walking straight toward the bike! From what I can see...I mean, it's far away and everything, but he...he looks like the DMV photo of the man who owns the bike...Stanton."

Damn! Stanton must have an early shift wherever he worked, or some other reason to be out before the sun was up. That was why Jackson was hanging around...he wanted to see his plan put in motion! As she heard the words from Mason through the ear-mic, she started unconsciously walking toward the corner.

"Mason, you can't let Stanton get on that bike. Get him, now! Go!" she hissed into the microphone. Turning to Esposito and Ryan, who were right with her, she told them, "Mason spotted Stanton; he's about to get on the bike. We need to close in on them, now!" She started running and rounded the corner as she saw, from a full block away, two officers running toward a man standing next to a motorcycle. She heard Esposito with his radio, telling all units to converge on the scene. Because she knew where to look from Mason's report, her eyes left Stanton and looked toward the stairwell to the north of the bike, just as Mason had described, where she could see another man. A man who was now pushing off from where he'd been leaning against the wall, and who was starting to walk away.

"Stop, police!" she shouted as she began running toward the man. His gait didn't falter as she approached him; he kept walking in a casual manner, not even fast, and he also showed no signs of having heard her order to stop. With her sprint, she was able to catch up to right behind where the man was walking. Again, she told him to stop. But this time, being closer, the man did stop. And then he turned around slowly.

And Kate got her first, in-person look of the killer they'd been tracking for almost the last month.

He was a few inches over six feet, with sandy-colored hair and a husky build, like a professional football player. He wore jeans and a dark blue, oversized windbreaker type of jacket. He looked like the adult version of the old yearbook picture they had of William Jackson. He stood there casually, hands in the pockets of the windbreaker, just looking at her.

After regarding her curiously, calmly, for several seconds, he asked, "Is there something you needed, ma'am?" Even though Esposito was now flanking her, the man eerily showed no recognition of him as his eyes bore into her in a definitely unsettling way.

She put her hand on her weapon. "It's Detective, Mr. Jackson, Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD. Please put your hands up and walk over to the building. We just have a few questions for you."

He made no effort to move. "Now why would I want to do that, Detective?" he asked politely, but with enough arrogance and something else that she couldn't pinpoint, something that made the hairs on her neck stand up just a bit.

"You heard her, man," Esposito told him. "Face the wall, Jackson. Hands up."

"And you keep calling me Jackson," he said in an almost bored tone. "My name is Johnson. Carson Johnson. It's obvious you have me confused with someone else."

"Perhaps that's what people call you now, but we know who you used to be. But fine. Now for the last time, Mr. _Johnson_, hands up and face the wall."

Despite what she'd told Mason about being careful, Beckett was trying to keep it peaceable and by the book—they didn't want to lose this guy on a technicality—so she was trying to avoid drawing her weapon while there didn't appear to be any imminent danger. She watched as a little smile formed on Johnson's face as he told her sarcastically, "Well, of course. Since you asked so nicely..." His smile now held that quality, that something else that was in his expression before, that something that she couldn't place and it gave her a sense of foreboding. So finally, she unclipped her gun from the holster and started to remove it, in deference to those hairs on her neck that were now probably standing up so straight that they looked like little hair soldiers.

And it was when he took a step toward the wall that all hell broke loose.

All at once, his arms came out of his pockets, lightning fast, with one holding something that was pointed at her. Later, they wondered how such a big man could have such good reflexes. In that instant, she realized what she'd seen in his gaze, that thing that she couldn't pinpoint. Right before Johnson fired the weapon that he'd removed from his pocket, right before Esposito in turn fired his gun at Johnson, right before she felt the sting in her shoulder and the jolt from being hit, and right before she began to fall to the ground, motionless, she finally recognized the look that he'd had in those cold eyes.

It was sinister.

But it was a different kind of sinister, one that she didn't see too often, one that was tinged with some form of craziness that screamed that something wasn't quite right with him. And as she lost consciousness amidst the cacophony of sirens, shouts and pounding footsteps, she wondered how she didn't recognize that look before.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Well. Did you make it through that okay? Sorry for no Castle in this chapter...it just didn't flow. I tried putting in a small reference, but it just didn't work here so I deleted it. And whatever you're thinking right now? Yeah...you're wrong. My imagination is kicking in again, and you'll find out exactly how in the next chapter.<strong>_

_**I think this is the first time I've ever written a confrontation with or a takedown of a suspect. Hope I did okay.**_

_**I'm sure most of you have seen this by now, but if you haven't, I started another story called "Most Eligible Bachelor?". If you haven't seen it yet and want some more reading material, go check it out.**_

_**All of that said, reviews and your thoughts are always appreciated.**_


	38. Chapter 38

_**Welcome to chapter 38! This chapter got away from me, so it's longer than the last several have been. **_

_**Disclaimer: The usual.**_

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><p>She became aware of noises, of sounds that she didn't know. She felt...strange, but she couldn't pinpoint exactly how. It was more than just being tired. She realized that she was lying down, but not flat. She knew it had to be time to wake up, even though she didn't hear her alarm.<p>

She slowly became aware of an ache in her shoulder, and she lifted her other hand to try to put it on the aching shoulder. But when she did that, she realized that her other arm felt strange too, as if it was weighted down by something. She tried to open her eyes then, and found that they, too, felt as if they had weights on them. But Kate managed to finally get them open only to find her eyes assaulted by what had to be about the brightest light imaginable shining directly into her eyes. She shut them again on reflex.

How had the light in Castle's bedroom been turned on, and when had it gotten so bright?

"Detective Beckett, come on. That's it. Let's try to open those eyes again."

That voice...where did that voice come from? And why was there someone else in the bedroom? Was that Castle? Oh, that was a nice thought. Was he home? Oh, no. He was on a book tour. There must be someone else in the loft!

With that thought, she went for her gun and tried to force her eyes open again, looking for the intruder. But that didn't work so well when she found she didn't have a gun, and the owner of the voice she'd heard was trying to shine yet another bright light in her eye as soon as it was open.

"Wha..." she started to say, but then realized that her throat felt as dry as sandpaper. She blinked her eyes and tried to look around, but it was still hard getting accustomed to the light. And then, her eyes picked out one thing in the unfamiliar room. "Dad?" she asked as she tried to make sense of her father standing there by her bed.

Jim Beckett walked a few steps closer to her bed. "Hi Katie. It's good to see you awake," he said, rubbing her forearm a bit with his fingertips.

"I, uh, Dad? Where..." She had to try to swallow. Her mouth was so dry. "Where am I?" she asked, looking around. "What happened?"

"You're in the hospital, Katie. You were brought here after something...went wrong when you tried to get the bad guy."

Her head whipped around, well, as much as it could when it felt like lead weights were inside of it. She noted the man dressed in scrubs on the other side of her, and then she rested her head back down on the pillow. "What...how bad?" After she said that, she felt something by the side of her mouth, which turned out to be the scrubs person giving her some ice chips on a spoon. They felt heavenly and she just relaxed for a moment against the pillows.

"Hey, honey." She opened her eyes and suddenly found Lanie standing there then.

"Lanie? Where'd you come from?"

"Your dad texted me after you woke up the first time." At what must have been a questioning look, she said, "You're just coming to after all of the drugs you were given. You fell back asleep again after you saw your dad the first time you woke up."

"What happened? What time is it?"

"According to the guys, you got a call about the guy you thought was your John-killer. You confronted him when he tried to get away. He...uh, I guess he shot you before you could get him. Came out of nowhere, Javi said."

"He shot me?" she asked slowly.

"Well, sort of. Honestly, we've never seen anything like it. The guys didn't know what to do with it. It wasn't a bullet ... it wasn't even a gun, not really."

"What wuzzit then?" Her voice still sounded sleepy. "My shoulder ... ."

"Yeah, he hit you in the shoulder. Just missed your vest. The guy modified a stun gun to shoot some kind of a poison dart. The dart stunned you instantly, and then when you were down, it dispensed some drugs into your system that knocked you out. Luckily, not a lethal dose, but enough to keep you sleeping for a while."

"Drugs?"

"Yeah ... stuff they usually use for sedation for surgeries. Anesthesia, basically. Ketamine, valium. When you were knocked out and they couldn't get you conscious again, they intubated you in the ambulance to keep your airway open; your throat might be a little sore from that. Once they got you in here and figured out what he gave you, it was just a matter of you waking up and having them monitor you to make sure your vital signs were okay."

"I don't do well with sedation. I get ... sick." And just then, Lanie realized she was looking a little bit green, and got the shallow bucket to her just in time before she leaned over and started heaving.

When that was done and Kate had rested, she asked Lanie, "My dad?"

"He'll be back soon. I don't think he really wanted to hear what happened to you again anyway."

"What about Jackson?" Kate asked, the cop in her showing through as she needed to know about the suspect, now that she'd been reasonably briefed on her own injuries.

But one of the nurses came in then, and they couldn't really talk about the intricacies of an ongoing case in front of her. So the nurse's checks of Kate's vitals, they talked more, with Lanie and the nurse filling Kate in on her injury and side effects a bit more, before hearing a timid knock at the door. Lanie told whoever it was to come in, and when Kate opened her eyes to see the visitor, she couldn't have been more surprised if it had been the Pope. "Alexis?" she asked as the girl came into the room and the nurse left.

"Hi..." she said softly, breathily, her mouth trying to smile beneath worried eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, or I will be, anyway. But what're you doin' here? Don' you have class ... or something?" Kate asked the girl, her voice still a bit sluggish, not understanding how she could be there.

"I'm good. And there's only an hour left of school anyway, and it's only my study period." Seeing the question in her eyes, the girl continued, "Detective Esposito called me earlier. He told me you were hurt, but he knew you were staying with me and he thought I should know, like if I needed to call Grams or someone else to stay with me."

An hour left of school? "What time is it?" Kate asked.

Alexis glanced at her phone. "Two-eighteen."

Kate's eyes got big as she heard the time. And then she started to sit up. "After two? In the _afternoon_? God, I have to get to the station!"

Lanie had underestimated how quickly Beckett could move, even with some trauma. She'd already gotten to her feet when Lanie reached her from the chair where she had been sitting. And it was a good thing, because as soon as she was vertical, the color left Kate's face and she swayed a little bit toward Lanie. "Whoa, easy there, girl. You're not going back to the station anytime soon. The boys and the Captain are taking care of everything," she told Kate as she pushed her back into the bed. "You just need to rest for a little bit and get your bearings back."

"I don't wanna stay here."

"You don't have to stay here, honey. You can be discharged just as soon as the doctor sees you. And as soon as you can stand up and prove that you can walk around and not fall over or faint."

She leaned back and closed her eyes. "I have to question Jackson."

"Well, you can't do that anyway. He's recovering himself. Javi shot him after he got you."

"Bad?"

"He'll live. But he won't be stringing people up on fences for a while, that's for sure."

Beckett nodded. "But I still need to...we have to get search warrants for his home, interview friends ... Now that we know who he is, we need to start building our case against him."

"Honey, the guys have already been doing that. For hours. Why do you think they're not here? Come on, they're on it. You just need to think about getting better."

"I'll be fine as soon as the drugs wear off," she insisted. "I have to—"

"You have to take it easy," interrupted a doctor as he breezed into the room, holding out a hand. "Detective Beckett, I'm Doctor Lamers. I've been checking on you since you were brought into our fine facility. And you're right, you will be fine as soon as the drugs wear off. But there are still going to be some side effects. You've undergone a trauma, detective. And while it's not nearly as serious as a bullet wound, you _do_ have wound from that ... thing that you were shot with. And you need to recover from that wound. You can recover at home, but you still need rest. No work. With the electrical shock, the wound, and the drugs, I want to make sure that your muscles are healing correctly before I send you back to work."

Oh, she hated doctors with their proclamations that she wouldn't be proficient in the field, when she had a job to do! "How long?" she asked.

"At least a week."

"A week! But ... oh, forget it." She couldn't resist rolling her eyes. "I suppose there'll be enough paperwork to keep me busy for a week even if I can't be in the field."

"No, Detective. Not even paperwork. You are on medical leave, as of this morning. No setting foot in your station." Seeing the protest ready on her lips, he continued. "Detective, I talked to your Captain. I know you've been working long hours on some case. You're visibly run-down. Given the approximate dose of the drugs that we think you had, you should have awakened a few hours ago. But your body needed the rest. So no, no work for a week, not even paperwork. Rest, get your strength back, heal, and then you'll be in better shape to go back to work. And from what I've heard, your bad guy is in no shape for anything heavy duty right now anyway."

She knew there was no use arguing, not from the doctor's tone, and especially not when she heard that he'd spoken with the Captain already.

The doctor left soon after, and then Lanie went to try to find a scrub shirt for her to wear home. Home? She was staying with Alexis, who was still in the room but had been silent as a little mouse during all of that. "Alexis," she started. "I'm so sorry."

"You're sorry? Why? Kate, you just were _shot_!"

"No, I'm supposed to be taking care of you. And look at me. And ... oh, my God! Your dad! What am I going to tell him? Oh, you didn't tell him anything, did you?"

"No, I haven't talked to him since Detective Esposito called me." The girl thought about the other questions for a moment. "And don't tell him anything, not yet. Let's just say you have the flu or something. Or you know he'll want to fly home if he knows what happened."

Kate nodded. "I know. But I'm sorry. Do you think you can call Martha?"

Alexis looked at her quizzically. "Sure, but why?"

"To have someone there with you."

"You're not coming back to the loft?" The surprise in the girl's voice was unmistakable.

"I..." she started, but didn't get very far.

"Kate, I have the day off tomorrow, and then there's the weekend. You already have clothes there, and we can just sit and veg out over movies or something. We could even watch them in different languages. And I can do all of the cooking and everything, so you can, you know, get healthy. The doctor said—"

"Yes, I know what the doctor said. But Alexis, are you sure?"

"Definitely. And you know if Dad was here, he'd say the same thing."

Castle wouldn't just say that, he would steamroll her into it; she knew that. She regarded the girl for a few seconds, and then she just leaned her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes as it all hit her at once. The case... they got the guy, at least for right now. He wouldn't be killing anyone else. And she could talk to the guys later, when she was out of the hospital. And right now, yes, she realized she was insanely tired. And not just tired, but exhausted. Bone-weary even. And that feeling was enough to let her make her decision.

"Okay, Alexis. Let's go back to the loft and watch movies in other languages. I wonder how Stuart Little would sound in Spanish."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

In the back room of some bookstore with a long line of fans out in front, Rick Castle was calling his Detective girlfriend yet again, and was getting more and more frustrated each time he still didn't get an answer. He hadn't talked to her at all today and he was having Kate withdrawl, especially after the 'captivating doormen' messages he received. He knew that was just Kate's way of messing with him, but he still felt irrationally jealous of those doormen, who got to see her and talk to her in person, while he, himself, was across the country. There was just something wrong with that.

When he'd spoken with Alexis that morning, she'd told him about Kate running out in the middle of the night, something about finally finding their suspect. He was happy for her, if they had indeed caught a break, but he still wanted her to call. Or at least answer the phone when he called. He wanted to talk to her.

He _needed_ to talk to her.

But now they were motioning that it was time for him to come out and meet his fans, so he plastered a big, fake smile on his face, and tried to hope that he'd be able to finally talk to Kate after he signed his name another few hundred times.

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><p><em><strong>Hope you enjoyed the chapter!<strong>_

_**I also hope I surprised you, like I alluded to in the last chapter. If anyone figured out the poison stun dart angle that I ended up using, you rock! I know it's kind of 'out there', but our guy is a genius, so I thought it would be very much in character for him to invent something like that.**_

_**So...thoughts? Reviews? Motivation is a wonderful thing.**_

_**And the next chapter? Yeah, you won't want to miss what I have in store for that one. More good stuff. :)**_

**_ETA: Corrected a weird piece of dialog that I had. I also forgot to mention the 'watching movies in different languages' thing; does anyone remember that from 'Blizzard'? :)_**


	39. Chapter 39

_**Hope you enjoy this. Welcome to new readers Unputdownable and Krakenback, who just started reading the story and left me very nice messages/reviews. And a big thank you to some of the long-time, die-hard readers/reviewers: Mark C, IrrationalObsessions, LittleLizzieZentara, faeriehallie, Amybf, Deb838. You all keep me going when I wonder if I should keep going or not.**_

_**Disclaimer: That would be nice.**_

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><p>"Kate! Is everything okay? Do you feel okay? Are you there?" Alexis' voice was first surprised when she answered the phone, and then concerned.<p>

"I'm fine," she said automatically. "Well, sort of. I'm just really tired, and my shoulder is starting to ache, and I want to lay down. And ..." she finally confessed, "Yes, I'm here, but I'm just thinking that this was a really stupid idea."

"No! It's a great idea. You know it is."

"Listen...I don't even know where he is. It's not like I can just walk up to someone and ask. They'd never tell me ... they'd think I was some crazy stalker or something."

"Oh," Alexis replied, sounding surprised. "I should have thought of that. Um ..." She was silent for a moment and then started speaking quickly again. "Okay, give me five minutes, ten tops. I can play detective. I'll call you back. And this is a good idea. It really is. Just remember that."

And true to her word, Alexis called her back just about five minutes later. Kate's phone buzzed in her pocket, and when she answered it and she could hear the excitement in Alexis' voice. "It's twelve sixty-five."

"Twelve sixty-five?" Kate repeated. "Did you tell him?"

"No. Remember, I was trained by the master of painting a scene and only giving people just enough information." She paused for a moment. "I just told him that I knew he was homesick and sad because he couldn't get ahold of you, so I wanted to send him a treat from room service, but I needed his room number. He totally bought it."

Kate had to hand it to the girl. That _was_ pretty clever. "So he's not expecting me?"

"No. Well, yes, he's expecting a treat of some sort now, but he just doesn't know that his treat is really _you_."

Kate sighed. There was nothing stopping her, so why wasn't she racing for the elevator?

She was nervous. Yeah, it really hurt to admit it, but she was nervous. Why didn't she think about this before?

When Alexis didn't get a response, she said, "Come on, Kate. Do this. You flew all that way."

"But ..."

"But nothing!" Alexis said sternly. "You're being silly, just like you were at home when we planned all of this. And if you don't promise me that you're going to see him, right now, I'm going to call him back right now and tell him everything."

"Okay, fine. I'll go."

"Good. But you have to call me and let me know you didn't chicken out. Or send me a picture. Something. Soon."

After promising the girl, Kate squared her good shoulder, grabbed her suitcase with her good arm, and headed for the elevator. She wasn't normally this nervous, but ever since the stun gun shot, she just hadn't been herself. She was tired, and she was really emotional, moreso than normal. They said it was the drugs, both what she'd been given in the poison dart, and the trauma, and then the painkillers since then. Her moods were all over the map, and she just felt so different.

Except for one thing. She still missed Rick. And now, it seemed, she missed him even more than she had before. Probably because she didn't have the case to distract her. She just had Castle's loft, and his cheerful, convincing daughter as constant reminders that she missed the man, probably more than she should.

But now ... now she could really do something about missing him. And, looking around at the opulent lobby and hearing the clanging of the slot machines in the distance, she realized that she _had_ done something about it. She was here. She'd actually gotten on a plane and had flown out to visit him.

Go figure.

And now, before she could analyze it more, she was getting on an elevator, and she was going to the twelfth floor. And she was going to see him in person for the first time in over a month. She just hoped he was happy to see her.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

_Forty-nine hours earlier..._

Alexis and Kate arrived at the loft after leaving the hospital, and shortly thereafter, Alexis went into mother-hen mode. She set Kate up on the couch with so many pillows that Kate wasn't sure where she was going to sit. She started offering Kate various food items before going through a fast-paced verbal listing of what had to be every DVD in the Castle household, which was a lot, including old stage performances of Martha's that had been recorded and put on DVDs. She looked so concerned that Kate had to finally tell her that she was going to go back to her own apartment if Alexis didn't relax.

Then Kate felt guilty because she knew Alexis was only trying to help, and that she was just worried about her. So Kate apologized, and said she'd love some chinese, and told Alexis to choose the funniest of Martha's performances.

And they spent the rest of the evening watching old DVDs and remarking about how even though Martha looked so different back then, she was still the same Martha.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The next morning, Kate, still an early riser, was puttering in the kitchen, trying to figure out how to cook with one arm in a sling. She'd cringed when she checked her phone and found a bunch of missed calls and messages from Rick. Somehow, she hadn't even thought to check her phone last night.

Remembering what Alexis had said about not telling him about her injury, she fired off a text, one-handed, and hoped that would hold him over for a while until she could figure out what to tell him.

_"Sorry, busy with case and had early night. Wasn't feeling well. TTY later." _

Alexis came down later, and was surprised to find Kate awake. They talked about Rick, and specifically what to tell him, and it was then when Alexis first said, still somewhat sleepily, "Well, you could just go see him, and explain it all in person. Then he could see that you're basically okay."

After that comment, the silence in the room was deafening. Kate's mind processed the statements, and she basically froze. Sure, Alexis had brought it up before, but Kate just wasn't prepared to go into it again now. Finally, she answered sarcastically, "Right. Sure. Like _that's _gonna happen. And besides, I'm here to stay with you while Martha is away, right?"

"Oh, yeah," Alexis said, and then started in on a totally different topic of conversation.

When Kate left to try to maneuver herself through a shower while keeping her wound dry, Alexis stole up to her room and placed a call to her grandmother. Since Kate staying at the loft was part of Alexis' grand plan to get Kate to make the trip to see her dad anyway, and Martha was part of that, she had to update Martha on the latest developments.

"Now, dear, is she really feeling okay?"

"I think so. She seems tired, and her arm is sore, but she can walk and move around and she's eating and everything."

"So she could potentially handle a plane trip?"

"Uh huh. And the best part? She can't go back to work for a _week!_" Alexis said excitedly. "Well, I mean if there's a good part to her getting shot by a stun gun by a serial murderer, that is," she added a little more seriously, trying to be respectful of Kate's job and injuries. But then her voice got excited again. "But if she can't work, she might as well go visit dad, right?"

"Exactly darling. Have you suggested it to her yet?"

"I did, but she didn't really take me seriously, and then she said that she had to stay here with me, so she couldn't go. So I was thinking ..."

"That it's time for me to return home?"

"Weren't you telling me that Harry didn't need you anymore?"

"Well, yes, dear, I believe I was saying that!" Martha agreed, falling into the charade that her granddaughter was laying out. "In fact, I was just going to pack my things this morning and I should be home by this evening."

"Oh, well, you know, I've been having problems with my memory lately. I might just forget that you're coming home. So when you walk in, don't be shocked if I act really surprised."

"I understand, dear. I have memory problems myself sometimes too. I just hope I don't forget that you told me about Kate's injuries."

And those Castle/Rodgers women continued to plot, just as they had in the Hamptons, because they both knew that when it came to Kate and Rick, those two sometimes needed a bit of outside help.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

At eleven, Kate got a text back from Castle, saying that he'd overslept and had to run to a book signing, but he'd call her later.

At noon, Alexis made dinner and chattered incessantly about her father and his cooking exploits, including the turkey deep-frying escapade. Kate laughed at the stories, but inside, it made her miss him more.

At two o'clock, Alexis put a new DVD in the player and told Kate she just had to see it. When she sat down, Kate saw a small version of Alexis along with an adorably younger version of Rick. It was a series of shots of birthday parties, vacations, getaways to what Kate recognized as the house in the Hamptons, and even some pranks that had been recorded, and then transferred to DVDs. Alexis remarked how fun her dad was on vacations, always finding unusual things to do wherever they were. And it was fun watching the home movies, but it made Kate miss him more.

At three-thirty, Kate fell asleep shortly after taking one of her pain pills. She dreamed about playing volleyball on a beach with Rick.

At four o'clock, she missed Rick's call, sleeping right through the ringer.

At five minutes after four, Alexis got a call from her father, politely asking how she was. But she knew the real reason he was calling, and she launched into the prepared story about Kate not feeling well so she was taking it easy. He was worried, of course, but she could hear the disappointment in his voice when he said not to disturb her sleep.

At six o'clock, Kate opened her eyes to find Martha looking down at her.

"Martha?"

"Yes, of course. Are you feeling okay, dear?"

Kate sat up a bit and began to explain why she was there, sleeping. And Martha, being the actress she was, issued the appropriate level of surprise and concern over everything that had happened, complete with the necessary exclamations of "My goodness!" and "How dreadful!" interspersed throughout the explanation. And once Kate was more awake, she realized the implication of Martha being home; Kate wasn't needed at the loft anymore and could go back to her own apartment.

However, when she voiced that out loud, Alexis got a panicked look on her face. She hadn't anticipated that Kate would want to go back home when Martha came back! But Martha swooped right in and saved the day, telling Kate that _of course_ she would continue to stay at the loft! She needed to let them take care of her, just a bit, mind you, after what that awful man had done to her! Richard would insist on it, just like when she sprained her ankle. She successfully shut down any protests that Kate had, and her concern and insistance brought unexpected tears to Kate's eyes, which resulted in a Chanel-scented hug from Martha and embarrassed apologies from Kate, who wasn't normally one to cry at shows of kindness.

At seven o'clock, she got an update on the case from a reluctant Esposito, who didn't want to tell her anything, per her doctor's and Captain's orders, but told her just enough so she was as satisfied as she could be about how things were progressing when she wasn't allowed to be there.

At eight o'clock, Alexis again mentioned her dad, this time in the context of how much he missed everyone, and again suggested that Kate go visit him. Except this time, Martha was there and she got in on the act, taking Alexis' seemingly off-hand suggestion, deeming it a 'lovely idea', and running with it. By the end of it, Kate, in her strange post-trauma, pain-killer-induced state, started agreeing with them on points that she simply wasn't able to refute ("You can't go to work. What else are you going to do for a week?" "You need a distraction, and, darling, you _know_ how distracting Richard can be!").

At ten o'clock, Kate finally dared to call Rick. She had her speech prepared, but was almost relieved when the call went to voicemail. She kept up with the charade of feeling a little sick, and she tried to give him enough in her message so he wouldn't want to try to skype with her, since the sling would be a dead giveaway that she didn't have the flu and she didn't want to go down that road quite yet.

With the help of the codeine in her pain pill, she was able to sleep through the night pretty well, although her shoulder was quite achy and stiff when she woke up.

She showered first, again taking care with her wound, and then went to the kitchen for some coffee.

And she was a bit alarmed when first, she realized that Martha was already awake, and second, both she and Alexis had huge smiles on their faces as they ushered her over to sit in front of the laptop that Alexis had just been using.

And when she looked at the screen, she was really glad that she hadn't started drinking her coffee yet, or she was certain it would have been all over the computer by then.

Because in front of her, on the screen, was a flight itinerary to Las Vegas.

For a flight that afternoon.

First class.

With _her_ name as the sole traveler.

"Alexis ..." she stammered, turning toward the girl. "I can't ..."

"Yes, of course you can, dear!" Martha interrupted. "We've already booked a car service to take you to the airport, and we'll arrange for someone to pick you up in Las Vegas."

"But ... he might not want me to come!" she blurted out.

"Kate, darling," Martha said, putting a hand on Kate's good shoulder. "You and I both know that's pure ... hogwash. Of course Richard wants you to visit. If I know my son, he would have been happy to have you with him for the whole trip. So this is perfectly fine. Now, I thought we'd settled this last night."

"I didn't know you'd book me a ticket!" Kate protested.

"Well, why wouldn't we? I'm home now, so you certainly don't need to look after Alexis any longer. You agreed last night that you had no other plans for the week. And you even said you missed Richard."

She did?

"So naturally," Martha continued, "if you put all of that together, there's no reason to _not_ visit him, now is there?" Martha smiled coyly at her.

"If you want any help packing, let me know," Alexis said with a big smile.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

And that was how she came to be riding up to the twelfth floor in this opulent hotel in Las Vegas. It still felt surreal ... everything that had happened, that she was really here. She didn't know if she'd ever been that thoroughly bamboozled before. The bell dinged, indicating her arrival on the floor. She pulled her suitcase off and started walking to the left, as indicated by the signs. All too soon, she was standing outside of room twelve sixty-five, staring at the door while her feet sank into the plush carpeting.

She was here. And according to Alexis, Rick was right beyond that door.

Taking a deep breath, she raised her hand, but paused before knocking when she saw the little flutter in her hand.

She was nervous.

But now was no time for nerves. She was here. She closed her eyes and pushed her knuckles forward until she could hear them come in contact with the door. And she rapped them three more times and then just stood there, waiting.

Waiting.

And then, the door opened and there he was.

Oh, God, it was really him. He looked tired, but he looked wonderful. She watched as he registered her standing there, and his eyes got big. His mouth dropped open in a little 'o', but otherwise he didn't move. He just stayed rooted to that spot where he stood and she could feel her eyes start to get teary as she looked at him and drank in the sight that he was right in front of her. Finally. He was there and she was here, and ... they just stared at each other.

And when he could finally do more than just stare, he uttered one word in a disbelieving voice.

"Kate?"

* * *

><p><em><strong>If you liked something, reviews are always appreciated so that I know what I'm doing right! And they keep me motivated so that I want to write more. Motivation is a good thing. So are reviews. :)<strong>_


	40. Chapter 40

_**Wow...motivation? You guys are GREAT at motivation! Thank you so, so, so, so much for all of the wonderful comments! I wish I could have responded to each and every one of you, but I had to choose between that and writing this. I figured most people would go for a new chapter**_—_**especially **__**this**__** chapter**_—_**just a few days after the last one. So here it is! **_

_**Remember that there's a lot to cover between the two of them, so I'm trying to do all of that and still keep it organic in the way that it happens. (Love that word**_—_**organic**_—_**it's the word the real writers/producers seem to use a lot, so it makes me feel so 'official' ... LOL.)**_

_**This chapter is long. I haven't done a chapter this long in a while. Experience has shown me that people seem to like shorter chapters a lot better. However, I knew where I wanted to end this one, so I kept going until I hit that point, and this is what I got. So it's a monster, and I hope that doesn't turn people off.**_

_**Disclaimer: After talking about the 'real writers/producers', it's obvious that I'm not one of them.**_

* * *

><p>As hokey as it sounded, later Castle would say that the only way he could describe it when he saw her standing there in the hall was that 'time stood still.' To say that seeing Kate when he opened the door was the last thing he expected would be the biggest understatement of modern time. He was expecting a balding, portly room service waiter with some chocolatey treat that Alexis thought he needed. He did <em>not<em> expect his girlfriend. After he opened the door, he was sure he stood there for several full minutes, all the time waiting for her to simply disappear. She had to be an apparition or something that his Kate-deprived brain had conjured up. She couldn't be standing there. She just couldn't.

But the apparition wasn't going away. She was still there, and her eyes looked...teary? And finally, he found his voice.

"Kate?"

She gave him a little smile underneath those moist eyes as she cocked her head just a bit to the side in a gesture that was supposed to seem casual, but belied the nerves that were still twisting her stomach in knots from just showing up at his door like this. She took a little breath and then in a soft but slightly shaky voice, she finally responded, "Hey, Castle."

The apparition spoke. He stared at her, still transfixed by the sight of her. "Oh, my God," he breathed.

He was drinking in the sight of her in front of him, and then he realized that she was still standing in the hall, and he was still standing a few feet away inside his room. And he took a step toward her.

And she must have realized the same thing, because at the very same time, she was throwing caution to the wind as she not only stepped toward him, but she threw her good arm around him and buried her face in his neck as she hugged him to her. She was trying so hard not to cry, as the emotions of finally seeing him again engulfed her. She just held onto him, breathing in his scent with every ragged breath that she took. She couldn't speak, didn't want to speak. She just wanted to hold him and be held by him.

And Castle accommodated her. He was still in a state of shocked disbelief, but his arms instinctively went around Kate, who was definitely _not_ an apparition. He was still trying to get his bearings, as he bent his face down into her hair and closed his eyes as her scent and the feeling of her overwhelmed him. How could she be here? He could feel her choppy breaths against his neck, and she was holding him so tightly, like she was never going to let him go. And that was fine by him.

"You're not room service."

He uttered the words in a voice that still had a state of awe attached to it. But hearing something so typically Castle come out of his mouth just made a laugh bubble up inside her. She pulled away from his neck just far enough to reply, "Finally figured that out, did you? Not too quick today, huh?"

He pulled his face away a little more, but kept his arms still firmly around her. When she felt that, Kate pulled back a little bit too, just enough to be able to look him in the face. Still needing contact, she let her hand come forward from around his shoulders to cup his face as she leaned back to look at him. She just wanted to look into his face.

"I'll have you know ..." he started to say, but then saw how impossibly close their faces were and he completely lost his train of thought. They'd both been smiling, but the smiles evaporated as they saw how close the were. There was now no hesitation, no waiting, no wondering as they came closer until their lips finally met in a kiss.

It had been more than a month. And the last time they'd kissed, it had been a frantic rush in the evidence room, with promises of more later. Promises of much more. Promises that were never fulfilled when Castle had to leave right after that, and Kate got immersed in her case. But now ...

Now, they were here, together. The kiss was soft, almost tentative, just a press of his lips against hers, as they simply reveled in experiencing the feeling that they'd only dreamed about for the last month.

She started to move first, opening her mouth a bit as she changed the angle of the kiss. That was all he needed to wind his hand through her hair and hold her head, even as he nipped at her bottom lip. She sighed when she felt it, and it was almost like their first kiss all over again. She tasted him just a bit, and then it was his turn to sigh as, taking that as an invitation to go further, he began to ravage her mouth.

But when his right arm, the one with the hand in her hair, tried to pull her even closer, she broke away from the kiss as she uttered a little, "Ah," a response that didn't sound like it was evoked from the incredible feeling of the passionate kisses they'd just been sharing.

He pulled back just enough to see her face, and, puzzled, he asked her, "Kate?" She was taking a couple of breaths through her mouth, like she was ... hurting? "Kate, are you all right? Is your ankle hurting?"

She looked at him, at the concern and confusion written on his face. After shaking her head, she gave him a quick kiss and then said, "It's okay. Just a little twinge in my shoulder. Ankle's fine." But she was still existing in the brain-fog brought about by their reunion and the after-effects of her run-in with Jackson, and she didn't remember that he knew nothing about her injury or that they'd even found Jackson. He didn't even realize that her ankle felt completely fine now, and had for a few weeks.

Castle uttered, "Shoulder?" at the same time that he realized that she only had one arm around him; her other arm was still awkwardly between them. It was like a lightbulb was turned on and all of a sudden he saw the clue that he'd missed before. Pulling back, he looked down and his eyes got big when he saw the sling holding her arm against her body. In seeing her when he'd first opened his door, he'd totally missed the navy blue sling that blended in with her black turtleneck. He'd been so shocked to see her that he was transfixed just looking at her face, and had never even registered the telltale medical accessory. "Kate ... my God! What happened?"

Her bubble of their reunion was burst now too, and she was again cognizant enough to realize that they were still standing in the hall right outside of his room. "Rick?" she asked, bobbing her head forward toward the open door behind him, "Can we go inside?"

He looked around as he then became aware of the hallway, and he stepped aside to usher her in when he noticed a small rolling suitcase on the floor side of her. Grabbing it, he followed her through the door. She looked briefly around the room before turning back around toward him, finding that he'd followed her closely. As if he still needed contact with her, he gingerly wrapped an arm around her good shoulder and pulled her to him again, her face against his chest as he rubbed her back lightly. "Are you okay?" he asked, his mouth by her ear. "What happened? Why are you in a sling?"

She took a couple of deep breaths, again breathing in his scent and loving that he was _right there_. There really was no easy way to tell him, was there? Both she and Alexis had talked about it, and they'd already pretty much come to that conclusion. So even though she wanted to stay cradled against him like she was, she needed to tell him, so she pulled back just enough to be able to look into his eyes. She reached up and touched his face.

"I was shot."

And she watched his face lose its color as his eyes got wide with fear. She didn't know he could go that pale, that quickly. He sucked in a shocked breath. "Shot?" he asked in barely a whisper of a voice. "How ... how are you here? You should be ... in a hospital ..." He tried to push her down onto a chair. "I'll call someone ... they have doctors—" His voice was starting to take on a frantic edge so she knew she had to try to bring him back down to earth.

"Castle ... Rick, no. I'm fine. I wasn't shot by a bullet. And I saw a doctor. I'm okay. Well, for the most part."

"Not a bullet? I ... we need to sit down." And he pulled her over to sit on the edge of the bed and sat heavily down on it himself. He didn't let go of her, keeping one arm around her.

"Not a bullet." She took a deep breath, preparing to give him the Reader's Digest Condensed Version of what happened to lead up to Jackson's apprehension. But first ... "Castle? Do you have anything to drink? I, uh, I need to take a pain pill."

Just when she thought his face was starting to get some color back, she watched him go white again as she mentioned the pain pill. "I'm okay, really. I'm just a little bit achy from the flight and everything."

After looking at her for a couple of long moments, he gave a little nod and stood up. He tried to calm himself internally. She'd been shot! But ... not by a bullet? But she needed to take a pain pill. Yes. A pain pill, for her ... for some kind of a wound from being shot with ... something. Water. Right. He gave her a quick kiss on her forehead before going over to the small refrigerator and taking out a bottle of water.

She grabbed her pills from one of the pockets of her suitcase and took one when he handed her the bottle of water. And the whole while, his eyes never left her, like he was memorizing every movement she made. She patted the bed next to her, silently telling him to sit back down, and he shook his head. Without saying anything, he went over and propped the bed pillows up against the headboard and then scooted to lean against it, motioning for her to join him. "I have a feeling that there's a lot that I've missed, so I think we should be a little more comfortable because this is probably going to take quite a while. And you look like you could stand to lie down." She kicked off her shoes and sat back against him, relaxing into his side and laying her head down on his shoulder.

When she was settled and he had his arms around her as much as he dared, not knowing the extent of her injuries, he remarked, "This feels _so_ good."

She allowed herself to close her eyes for just a moment. She'd missed this. So much. "Not too bad from this end either, Castle," she told him.

And then, slowly, she launched into everything she hadn't been able to tell him about for the last several days, from when she had to wait for the elevator in his building after staying that first night with Alexis, and how that had eventually led them to William Jackson, aka Carson Johnson.

"He was going by 'Carson Johnson' all this time? Seriously?" he said, unknowingly imitating the reaction they all had when they matched the fingerprints and found him.

When she got to the part about being called out in the middle of the night, she could feel him start to tense up behind her because he knew what was coming next. She told him what happened, as succinctly as possible, and she felt his arms go around her just a little more tightly during that time. But regardless of how worried about her he might be, the geek in him couldn't help but be impressed with the fact that she was shot with some totally new type of prototype weapon. He was _so_ going to have to use this for one of his books. But after asking her a few questions about it, he remembered that _she_ was the one who was _shot_ with the weapon, and his arms tightened around her briefly once again, and he pressed a kiss into her hair.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked.

"I'm ... okay," she answered honestly. "Not spectacular, but I'm getting there. And I can tell you one thing." She sat up a little bit so she was able to turn around and face him. And damn if she didn't feel herself get teary again, as she looked at him and it hit her again how not only much she had missed him over the last month, but also that she was actually here with him now. "I'm ... uh ... I'm glad I'm here. With you. I ... I missed you, Rick." And then, through the fear that she would become even more of a blubbering idiot than she already was, she leaned into him and pressed her lips to his.

Oh, he didn't think he'd ever get enough of this. Kate telling him that she missed him and then kissing him senseless? No, there could never be too much of that.

As much as he loved kissing her, though, the writer in him knew there was still more to the story. And that was the 'more' he just had to know, because he'd been thinking about that one thing for weeks. So when the kiss slowed, he pulled back and said, "You're not done, you know. I'm still dying to know how you're actually _here_."

She was already turned toward him, on her side, so she just simply laid her head down right next to his and and smiled over at him. "Well, see, Rick, there are these inventions called 'airplanes'. The Wright Brothers invented—"

"Funny, funny, funny, Beckett," he interrupted. "No, I want to know what actually got you on the airplane, because I know the last time I talked to you, let's just say that you weren't exactly enthusiastic about the idea of coming to see me."

She sighed. "It wasn't that I didn't want to see_ you _..." she started.

"I should hope not."

She gave him a little glare, as much as she could muster being so close to him and still being somewhat in the pleasantly surreal haze of actually being with him again. "Do you want to know or not?"

"Go on," he conceded.

"It was your hurricane of a daughter," she told him, and watched his eyes widen.

"Alexis?"

"Yes, unless you have another daughter that I've been staying with for the last several days?"

"You were still staying there, at the loft? Even after ..." his voice trailed off as he gently traced one finger over the top of her injured shoulder.

"Yeah. She came to the hospital, and she insisted that I come back to the loft. My dad had some big meeting, so he felt badly that he couldn't stay with me. Alexis said she didn't have school the next day ... yesterday, I guess, and she said she if you were there you'd insist on it anyway."

"Good girl," he said, his fatherly pride showing though.

"And then she just used her inherent charm and clever machinations to ensure that I was easy prey for her scheming plot, especially in my somewhat drugged-up state."

He got a puzzled look on his face. She'd lost him. "Scheming ... ? What?"

She leaned forward the necessary few inches and gave him a quick kiss. She just couldn't resist it, even though she was in the middle of her story. He responded unconsciously, and by the time she continued with her story, the puzzled look on his face had been replaced with a slightly besotted one. "Yes. It took me until I was on the plane before I finally put everything together, but your daughter has been slowly and almost subliminally making me miss you more ever since I got shot by Jackson. And if I didn't know better, I'd probably think that she had something to do with that too."

"She made you miss me?"

"Yes. She started lobbying even a few weeks ago for me to visit you, but you know, we had the case. But yesterday, almost as soon as I got up, she mentioned me coming to visit you, since I was banned from the precinct for the next week anyway."

"A week?" He perked up at that. She must have forgotten to mention that little tidbit.

"Yes, a week." She tried to ignore his sudden grin of excitement and the wheels that were undoubtably turning in his head. "Focus, Castle. Then over lunch, she told me a bunch of stories about you. And," she, said, gazing toward the top of his face, "I guess your eyebrows did grow back pretty well."

"She told you_ that_?" He cringed a bit.

"Yes. Then after lunch, she showed me old DVDs from when she was little. And of course, you were featured prominently."

"And you missed me?" he asked, a bit of pride showing through.

"Yes," she admitted. "I missed you. Okay?" He just grinned at her.

"So," she continued, "then your mother came home. And I didn't think about it at the time, but now the timing seems a little suspect. I mean, one of the reasons that I told Alexis that I couldn't visit you was because I had to stay with her because Martha was away helping her friend Harry. And then your Mother comes home so I'm all of a sudden off the hook? Right." She took a breath. "They both tried the 'you should go visit him' thing last night again, but I never really agreed to anything so I thought they'd dropped it. But then this morning, I hadn't even had any coffee yet when those two showed me that they'd booked me a plane ticket out of JFK early this afternoon! First class!" She said the last two words like they were an insult.

As Rick heard more and more, he couldn't help but agree with her that Alexis and probably his mother—no, _definitely_ his mother—were without a doubt subtley convincing her to join him. Of course that sublety had gone out the window when they presented her with a plane ticket. And he had to try really hard not to smile as he realized the lengths that those two ladies had gone to for him—and Kate—and even moreso, how thoroughly Kate had been fooled by Alexis in her efforts to wear Kate down.

"Don't you have anything to say?"

"You could have just said no, I suppose," he said finally, even though the thought made him almost depressed.

"To Alexis? Castle, do you know how excited she was this morning? I thought she was going to wet herself. No way." And then she raised up a little bit. "Oh, my gosh! I was supposed to call her. Or text her. Or send her a picture or something."

"To let her know your flight got in okay?"

"No, to let her know I didn't turn around and go home." At his questioning look, she explained, "I, uh, was kind of, uh ... once I actually got to the hotel, I called her because I didn't even know your room number, and ... I started to have second thoughts and I thought maybe coming out here wasn't such a good idea after all."

"Why not?"

"I ..." She looked away again, kind of embarrassed. "I just didn't, okay? I didn't even know your room number!" she repeated. "And I mean, what if you got into the tour thing and you ... didn't want me here now, or you didn't like surprises ... look, just forget—"

She was stopped when she felt a finger cover her lips. "Stop, Kate. I love surprises like that, although for a few seconds, I thought I was losing my mind when I saw you in the hallway. I thought I was imagining you. But I want you here. I _definitely_ want you here. I'm thrilled you're here. Okay?"

She nodded. And all of a sudden, he snapped his fingers. "_That's_ why she called me and told me about the room service thing ... she needed my room number! For you!"

Kate nodded again. "I knew I couldn't just ask at the desk. I thought she was pretty clever the way she got it out of you."

"That's my girl." He beamed with fatherly pride. "And you said something about a picture? For Alexis? Let's take care of that." And he pulled out his phone and they both sat up. He put his arm around her and with their heads together, he took a picture of their smiling faces. After deeming the picture acceptable, he typed a quick text and sent it off to his daughter. Then he settled them back into their previous positions. "Shoulder okay?" he asked, trying to keep his voice light, but she could still see the concern in his eyes.

"Yeah. It's better like this, when I'm not laying on it. And the pain pill is working." And then, as if to illustrate the sedative qualities of the pill, she yawned.

"So ... you only came here to keep my daughter happy?" He had a little twinkle in his eye now, so she knew he wasn't serious. It wasn't like months ago when she'd put her foot in her mouth, and he'd been genuinely hurt.

"Your daughter _is_ pretty persuasive," she started, leaning toward him so she was only millimeters away from his lips, "but you know, I didn't have anything better to do, so—"

She never got to say any more, because he covered those last few millimeters himself and prevented her from giving him any more grief.

They kissed leisurely this time, light little presses of one set of lips against the other as they lay facing each other. They weren't seductive, these kisses; they were just comfortable, and simple, and ... sweet.

They opened their eyes again after a few minutes, and she whispered, "I missed you. And beyond everything else, that's why I'm here." She held his eyes for several seconds, watching them flicker with warmth at her admission.

And then she yawned again.

He ran a finger over her face. "And I missed you too. But I'm so glad you're here now, even though I wish you didn't have to get hurt. But I can see you're tired. You are, aren't you?" he prompted.

Now that he brought it up, she realized she _was_ exhausted. With all of the excitement of the day and all of the traveling in her still-weakened state, she could feel the weariness in her body. "Maybe a little," she admitted.

"Take a nap."

"No," she protested, trying not to sound tired. "I only just got here. We haven't hardly seen each other ..."

"We have, and we'll see each other more. A _lot_ more. But hopefully when you're a little more awake. We do have a week, right?" he asked with a little bit of that same tone of excitement in his voice, even though he was speaking softly, and she nodded slightly.

"So sleep, honey," he said, tracing her face with his finger again.

And with the combination of the 'honey', which always seemed to make her just a little bit mushy, and the gentle way he was touching her face, she felt contentedly relaxed as she leaned forward to peck his lips with hers before she said simply, "Okay," she said, and then added, "Stay?"

She gave him a happy, sleepy smile, and he couldn't resist repeating the little peck of lips. "Don't want to go anywhere else."

And he draped an arm over her side gently, taking care with her injured arm and shoulder, and along with the woman tucked against him, settled into the most contented sleep that he'd had in a month.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Back in New York, Alexis looked at her phone and found a text from her dad. After opening it, her jaw dropped in stunned surprise before the grin split her face. She stared at the happy smiles of her dad and Kate in the picture, before she read the note that accompanied it: "_Best daughter ever. Best room service treat EVER. Thank you."_

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><p><em><strong>There it is: my monstrosity of a chapter. If you've made it this far in one sitting, I thank you for reading it all at once. I hope you enjoyed it, despite its length.<strong>_

_**With this chapter, I was going for 'sweet'. I know some of you wanted the Grand Canyon, but I didn't feel it was time for that yet; once he saw she was injured, I just can't imagine that he would try to jump her bones. So regardless of your expectations, I hope the final product was satisfactory.**_

_**I was thinking about having Castle so shocked at Beckett's arrival that he walked out in the hall and ended up having the door shut behind them, locking them out (because of course he left his key in the room). But I decided it would make a too-long chapter even longer, so I didn't. But those of you with good imaginations can just imagine that and have a chuckle.**_

_**Once again, your response for the last chapter has made such a difference and has made me happy and excited to write this story again. So many thanks to all who reviewed or sent me PMs. Your feedback is so valuable to me.**_

**_I'm on twitter and tumblr; 'xxGoogiexx' on both sites. I've been posting updates lately on tumblr in addition to the notifications that this site sends out. However, I don't see a lot of traffic on either of those sites, so if you do use either twitter or tumblr for updates, let me know and I'll continue to post updates on those sites. _**


	41. Chapter 41

_**Like I said in the last chapter, you guys are pretty good about motivation. ;) As long as you all keep motivating me so well, I'll keep writing! I think it's pretty obvious that all of the wonderful response lately has really given me a second wind with this story. And thank you for all of the wonderful comments for chapter 40! And remember, if you story alerted this story, I want to hear from you, too!**_

_**I was happy so many of you understood and agreed with my decision not to 'visit the Grand Canyon' in the last chapter in lieu of a reunion, catching up and the explanation about the case and her injuries. **_

_**But anyway...enjoy!**_

_**Disclaimer: the same as always.**_

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><p>Rick was practically bubbling with excitement after he made all of the plans.<p>

After his own little catnap, he'd woken up while Kate remained sleeping. Once he realized where he was, and who was laying side of him, the grin slowly formed on his face as he remembered the shock and suprise of finding her at his door. He used some of the extra time to just simply stare at her, part of him still not believing that she was really there next to him. As he studied every nuance of her face, he could see the signs now, the signs of how she was just not at one hundred percent. He knew she'd been putting in long hours with the case, but now with the trauma of her shooting—thinking of that word and hearing it used in relation to Kate still made him wince a bit—it was obvious that her body needed to recuperate. But she made it here, and that was a good sign that she was pretty much okay, like she herself had said. He just tried to keep remembering that. She only needed a little TLC, and he was definitely the person to give it to her.

After he stared at her for quite a while, he got restless and grabbed the hotel guide that was on the table by the bed. He silently paged through it, and after turning one of the pages, he found himself staring at the one page for almost as long as he'd just stared at Kate. Once he saw the description and the pictures that were available, he almost couldn't believe his eyes, or their good fortune; it was like it was fate. It was meant to be.

It was weird how well everything had fallen into place, and all while Kate was still sleeping.

He made the calls from the bathroom so he wouldn't disturb Kate. And after everything was in place, he crawled back onto the bed in his previous position next to her, and resumed watching over her as she slept, all the while thanking his lucky stars that she was here with him.

This was going to be great.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

She drifted back into consciousness feeling ... content. And in her haze of semi-consciousness, she reveled in the feeling, because she hadn't felt that way for a long time. It was almost like she was back in the Hamptons during the blizzard, when she and Rick had spent several nights cuddled together in one bed or the other. She could even smell his unique scent, that combination of his aftershave and ... him.

But she knew she had to get up soon; they had a murderer to catch. But she opened her eyes and she let out a little scream when she saw the other face just inches from her own.

"Castle? What are you doing here?" she asked sleepily, taking a couple of deep breaths as she calmed herself down after her startle. "Are you done with your tour?"

Rick looked at her quizzically, and realized that she wasn't fully awake yet; she obviously thought she was still in New York.

He put a hand on her injured arm, just to hold her in place so she didn't start moving around and hurt herself before she was fully oriented to her surroundings. "Kate, shhh. You took a nap. We're in my hotel room in Vegas." That caused her to look around. "You flew out to see me. Remember?"

It all came back to her at once. She looked around the room, and then over at him, and then down at her arm still in the sling. "Yeah ... oh, wow. I guess I slept pretty soundly." And then she looked sideways at him, "Castle, you didn't watch me sleep, did you?"

The look on his face was a dead giveaway. "Uh ... well, I did take a little nap myself, you know."

"But you still watched me sleep, didn't you?" At his not-so-innocent expression, she rolled her eyes and said "Castle, that's creepy."

"Maybe I was just watching you to make sure that you didn't hurt your arm," he countered, defending himself.

"I just hope I didn't drool."

"You didn't. And even if you did, I'm sure it would have been adorable."

She rolled her eyes at him again, not even bothering to tell him he was nuts, and raised up to sit on the bed. Looking around the room, she remarked, "It's nice, but it's not really the type of room I thought you'd have."

"What did you think I'd have?"

She shrugged with her good shoulder. "A suite, I guess. Just something ... bigger. More over-the-top. More than just a regular room. You're the big, famous author, after all."

"Yeah, well, when the big, famous author is on a long tour, he only gets regular rooms. Suites cost more for the publisher, and they don't necessarily like that."

"Oh." She looked surprised. She'd always had an image in her mind of him, his lifestyle, his fame. And once again, here was another aspect that didn't fit in with her preconception.

"Are you disappointed?"

She looked back at him and said honestly, "Because you don't have a big, fancy suite? No. Just surprised. Anyway, I didn't come here to see what a fancy room looked like. I came here to see you."

Rick thought that for a woman who herself admitted that she wasn't good with words, she'd picked about the best possible ones to use just then. He gave her a smile and scooted a little closer on the bed, facing her. "You know," he told her in a low voice, "you did just take a nap on my bed. And I thought that as sort of a thanks for letting you crash there, you would at least give me a proper greeting when you woke up. But no, you had to scream when you saw me."

"I didn't scream."

"Fine. You yelped."

"I didn't yelp either. I was still sleeping, and I was ... surprised to find you there."

"Or you were surprised to find yourself _here_. Loudly surprised. But whatever. My point is that you never even gave me a wake-up kiss."

"Isn't a wake-up kiss used when you're trying to wake someone up? Not when she's already awake?"

"What does it matter? Do I need a reason?"

"Hey, you're the one trying to justify it instead of just doing something like this," she told him right before she planted her good hand on his chest and quickly pushed him backwards so he was sprawled on the bed before he knew it. And then Kate was leaning over him, and her mouth was doing something delicious to his, and he couldn't really justify anything else. And after several seconds, he wasn't even sure what they'd been talking about anyway.

To have Kate above him, kissing him, with her hair falling down around them creating almost a private little curtain around their heads ... it was like a little slice of nirvana for him. But somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew this couldn't go too far, because they both had other things to do; namely, his suprise. He still couldn't believe their good fortune.

He ran his hand though her hair, and urged her to sit up. When they broke apart, he said, "Whoa" and took a big breath. "Didn't think a short nap would rejuvenate you that much."

"Are you complaining? Is that why you stopped?"

"No! And ... I'm not stopping. I'm just postponing."

Her face fell just a little bit then. If he hadn't already been studying it, watching her, he might have missed it. But it was there. "Oh, you have some ... thing that you need to go to, right? Sign some books, schmooze a little?" She looked down for a minute. "I'm sorry, Castle. I just didn't stop to think, to remember that _you're_ the one working now. Don't worry, I'll just wait—"

"No, no. I had a morning thing today. I'm done for today, except for some informal 'walk-around-the-casino' thing I was supposed to do tonight, but I can get out of that."

"Are you sure? I don't want to get you in trouble with Paula again. Lord knows she's not going to be happy when she finds out I'm here."

"Then we won't tell her." He smiled then, a certain kind of smile that was reserved for when he was plotting something, when he was trying to get away with something.

"You're not going to tell her I'm here?"

"No."

"She knew it when Alexis visited you, right?" He nodded. "Then how do you propose to keep it from her that I'm here?"

"Simple. I don't tell her. And it's not like I'm going to be hauling you around to publicity events anyway." Then, as he heard his words, his eyes widened as he realized how it sounded. "No, that didn't come out right." He touched her cheek with his finger. "You're here now, and I want you all to myself. I don't want to share you." He let that sink in for a moment. "And could you imagine what would happen if I took you to a publicity event? The press would be all over that in a heartbeat."

She regarded him for a minute, thought about what he said. And yeah, even though the way he'd originally explained it was strange, his ultimate goal was on the right track. Privacy.

"I'd love to show you off sometime, but not now. Not when you've just gotten here. Not when I haven't seen you in a month."

"Okay." She thought back to how this conversation had started. "So ... what are you postponing?"

"Us. Uh ... the use of your ... rejuvenation. But just for a little while." He smiled slyly at her.

What was he talking about? "Not following you, Castle." She shook her head.

He hopped off the bed, but he couldn't hide his grin as he walked over to his suitcase. "Castle, what are you up to?"

"It's great, really," he told her, still grinning.

"What is 'it', exactly?"

He zipped his suitcase shut and turned to face her. "Fate, Kate," he told her with dramatic flourish, trying to be mysterious. But then he straightened up and said, "Hey, that rhymes. Fate, Kate. Cool. And that makes it even more cool."

"I _still_ have no idea what you're talking about. And I really didn't fly all the way out here just to guess a riddle." She raised an eyebrow at him and dropped her voice down to a sultry tone. "I can think of _much_ better ways to pass the time. Like what we were starting to do before, when you said I was 'rejuvenated'. I _am_ feeling a little rejuvenated, you know."

At the look on her face, combined with the very subtle invitation in her words, he was struck speechless for several seconds.

"Castle?" she prompted.

He comically shook his head as if to clear it. "Karma, Beckett. Kismet. Fate. All the planets have aligned for us."

"Castle," she said this time, as more of a warning for him to get on with it.

"Okay, Miss Impatient. Paula knows that I'm in this room."

The mention of Paula threw her; she didn't expect him to bring his cranky agent into the conversation again. "So? We're not telling her I'm here, right?"

"No, we're not, but she'd see you if she stops by. I mean ... you _are_ staying with me ... in my room ... right? You're not getting a separate room?"

The heat and hopefulness in his gaze was unmistakable. She knew what he was asking, verifying, and she smiled coyly. "No, Rick. I have absolutely nowhere to stay. So I was hoping that you _might_ have some spare room in your ..." she let her words trail off but she let her gaze drop to the bed on which she still sat, and she rubbed the bedspread a little for emphasis. When she raised her eyes to him again, she knew he understood her meaning. "So what's the problem?"

"She ... uh ... tends to stop by my room and make sure that I get to where I need to go. On time. And she'd see you. Or even if she didn't see you, she'd _know_. I know she'd know."

"So how are we going to keep her away?"

He grinned again, obviously pleased with himself. "We're not going to keep her away. She can come here and she can knock until her knuckles bleed." He laughed, and to Kate it sounded a little bit evil. "But it won't do her any good because _we_ won't be here."

"We won't?" Was he talking about ... running away? "Castle, where are we going? I just flew most of the way across the country to see you. I don't really want to have to travel somewhere _else_ now."

"Ah, that's the beauty of my plan, my dear Kate." Yes, he was very pleased with himself.

She'd told him that she thought Alexis was going to wet herself when she presented Kate with the plane ticket because she was so excited; well, Castle looked about the same way right now.

"Can you handle about a five-minute walk?" he asked.

"A five-minute ... " And then she finally realized where he was going with all of this. "Castle, did you get a different room?"

"And not just any room! It's right here in this hotel too! Wait until you see it!"

"Wha ... how? When?"

"I woke up earlier than you did, so I just grabbed the hotel guide. You know, it lists where the ice machines are, how to get to the pool ... that stuff. But this one had a section about all of the different rooms. And there was one ... Kate, it was perfect. It was fate. Between you showing up at my door and then finding this room ... I tell you, it would have been a cosmic injustice if I didn't book the room."

"What's so special about this room? Oh, never mind. Where's the hotel guide?"

"No! I want you to be surprised. Listen, are you ready? We can go there anytime. Or do you need to freshen up or anything?"

"Don't you need to see if it's available? Get the keys? Check in at the desk? Or is fate going to open the door for you too?" she quipped sarcastically.

"Beckett, I thought I've taught you that a lot can be done with a phone call. And an eager concierge. He slipped the key cards under the door right before you woke up."

She took a deep breath and tried to process everything that he was telling her. "Okay, let me get this straight. Paula drops in on you somewhat regularly, so you want to ditch her and find another room where she can't find you." He nodded. "Knowing Paula, I guess I can't blame you for that. So the ... planets aligned and you found another room that is really nice."

"Do you have to be so bland? Beckett, this room is awesome!"

"Are you going to give me a hint?" Looking at him, she knew he was dying to give her at least a little more information.

"Well ... okay, are you ready for this?"

"Probably not, but go on."

"It's a fantasy theme suite!"

"A fantasy ... " Her mind started to be bombarded with images when he said those words. "Castle, please tell me that we are not going somewhere with a round bed covered in red velvet, mirrors on the ceilings, and a harem of busty women in veils dancing around you. Because I am _so_ not in the mood to indulge any sort of fantasy that you may have that involves any of those things."

The look of affront and semi-disgust on his face was almost comical. "Beckett, I said 'fantasy theme suite', not 'fantasy recreate-a-cheesy-60s-B-movie suite'. And the only one I want dancing around me in veils is you."

Well, _that_ was a relief. "Well, if it isn't that, then what's the theme?"

"You'll just have to see what it is when you get there."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, then, let's go."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

As they packed up (his belongings, since she'd never unpacked anything of hers), he asked her several times about her shoulder, reminding her of how he was after she'd sprained her ankle. He told her that they could order room service—real room service—for dinner, so they wouldn't have to worry about going out. Kate asked about Paula, and Rick just told her that his next engagement was tomorrow afternoon, and Paula had his cell number if she really needed to reach him before then. And even though he was pretty nonchalant about getting away from Paula, she realized it was mostly for show. He still did a lot of looking around when they were in the hall, and before they even stepped out of the room, he stuck his head out and looked around, making sure the coast was clear. She asked him about it, and he confessed that Paula's room was just down the hall from him, and she'd said something about seeing an afternoon show, but he just wanted to make sure she wasn't walking by.

It turned out that their suite was several floors above them in that hotel, but he still wouldn't tell her anything more about it. Walking down the hall with him, it suddenly hit her that she was essentially sneaking into a hotel with Castle. And they_ both_ knew what was going to happen on the other side of those doors. A little shiver went up her spine at the thought. It was strange, but it was really the first time she really thought about what lay ahead of them, now that she was here. It had all been a whirlwind up until this point, and she'd never really thought about what would happen after she got here, mainly because she never really, seriously entertained the thought she'd come to visit him. Sure, she had time to think on the plane, but she was mostly thinking back to how Martha and Alexis had so nicely and subtley coerced her into the trip. She never thought ahead. That was probably why the nerves hit her so badly when she was knocking on his door. And when she got there ... they had their reunion, but she was exhausted and he seemed like he was still in a state of shock over her arrival and her injury, so he was perfectly content to just look at her and let her sleep.

But now ... now, after her nap, she wasn't tired. And they were talking about hotel rooms, and beds ... and _now_ her mind was starting to go to all of those places that she made herself not even think about for the last month.

She wondered if he was thinking about everything too, because he sort of bumped her shoulder. When she turned to look at him, he had a slight smile on his face. He didn't say anything, but it seemed like he was saying in a nonverbal way that he was having thoughts similar to her own.

They were finally _here_.

And _here_ wasn't even a concrete place; it wasn't a hotel room, or a bed, or a city. It was ... their relationship. Their mindset. Their comfort level. And—did she even dare to think it?—their committment.

This was it.

She had it now, she realized; that committment. She _felt_ that, in some form. She trusted him, despite her comment a few minutes before about the harem of busty women in veils. Even when he was telling her about the Hooters book-signing incident a week or two ago, she trusted him. It hit her, as she was walking down that hall, how far she had come. How deep her feelings for him had become now. How she wasn't running away, or pulling away anymore. How she was comfortable where they were.

How ready she was to take this next step with him.

And how she'd come this far—all the way to Vegas, to surprise him—knowing that _this _was where they'd end up. And she was okay with that.

More than okay.

And ... they weren't going slowly anymore, were they?

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

They were at the door now, and Rick gave her a heated look as he stood outside the door, ready to open it. "Now remember," he started.

"This is fate?"

He looked surprised. "Uh ... yeah. You're not supposed to steal my lines, Beckett. I was going to say that. I had to set the scene."

"Yeah. Sure. Just open the door, Castle, so I can see how creepy your fantasy is."

He gave her a look. "You are _so_ going to regret that statement, Kate. Especially if this room is even half as cool as the pictures."

"Just open the door," she repeated.

He leaned down and gave her a kiss, his lips lingering on hers for just a bit too long to make it a casual, off-hand gesture. She was looking at him, trying to gauge his mood, and the strange look that he gave her afterwards, when she noticed he was already waving the card key in front of the newish RFID reader. When the light went green, he turned the handle and pushed open the door.

They both walked into the room through the wide door, with him seeming just as curious as she was. The room was dark, and because of that, the first thing they noticed was all of the tiny lights on the ceiling. They looked like stars in a sky.

Rick looked around by the door, and he found an illuminated light switch. And when he casually flicked it on, both Castle and Beckett uttered twin, breathy inhalations of awe as they looked around.

Kate looked around the now-illuminated room. If it could be called that. It actually looked like a cave with rough stone walls, except the high ceiling was blue, like the sky, with a light smattering of clouds. She'd never seen anything like it. It almost looked like a movie set. When she could tear her eyes away from the room, she turned around to look at Castle, who was looking around in awe, just like she was. "Castle," she said, and waited until he looked at her. "What is this?"

He looked around again before his eyes found hers. And then he smiled at her, a knowing smile, but also a self-satisfied smile. "This, Kate," he said, taking a step toward her, "is fate. It's a sign."

Something stirred in her memory. "From the universe?"

He grinned back at her and winked. "Exactly. Because Kate," he said with a dramatic flourish of one of his arms as he put the other one around her, "I'd like to welcome you to our Grand Canyon Fantasy Suite."

* * *

><p><em><strong>And there you have it, folks. Once again, this turned out longer than I thought it would, so I'm glad a lot of you said you like longer chapters.<strong>_

_**I promise that I'll describe the room more in the next chapter. If you've never seen or stayed in one of those theme suites, do a search on the web. They're pretty cool. And how could Castle pass up a Grand Canyon themed room? No way! And the room is great. Wait till you read about it; it's pretty awesome. I almost want to try to build one of these now, after designing it in my head.**_

_**The idea that I had for this chapter, if anyone is interested, was to have it be less about her injuries, and more about them getting reacquainted with each other on a casual, conversation type of basis, and then to start to think about the fact that now that they were suddenly together, they could start to think about furthering their relationship. **_

_**I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. **_


	42. Chapter 42

_**Hi all, I'm back! I reference a few things from Blizzard in this chapter, so once again, if you haven't read that, now might be a good time. Specifically, there's a small part of chapter 9 that ended up being a big part of some of the theme of the two stories.**_

_**I'd like to welcome the new readers who have story alerted this story since I published the last chapter. Drop me a line sometime, huh? Let me know what you liked about the story that made you want to subscribe to it. After all, we're on chapter 42; there must be something.**_

_**Disclaimer: The usual.**_

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><p><em>Kate looked around the now-illuminated room. If it could be called that. It actually looked like a cave with rough stone walls, except the high ceiling was blue, like the sky, with a light smattering of clouds. She'd never seen anything like it. It almost looked like a movie set. When she could tear her eyes away from the room, she turned around to look at Castle, who was looking around in awe, just like she was. "Castle," she said, and waited until he looked at her. "What is this?"<em>

_He looked around again before his eyes found hers. And then he smiled at her, a knowing smile, but also a self-satisfied smile. "This, Kate," he said, taking a step toward her, "is fate. It's a sign."_

_Something stirred in her memory. "From the universe?"_

_He grinned back at her and winked. "Exactly. Because Kate," he said with a dramatic flourish of one of his arms as he put the other one around her, "I'd like to welcome you to our Grand Canyon Fantasy Suite."_

Grand Canyon? she thought.

_Oh, Lord._

_They both knew what the reference of the Grand Canyon meant._

Ever since their big fight about him going away on this tour, they'd had that special euphemism. It meant ... more. More than just work partners who stole kisses and cuddled on couches. It was another step in their relationship. A big one. It was one of her 'rules', from that first weekend she'd spent with him in the Hamptons. It was actually a couple of different rules.

Or actually, it wasn't about the rules at all. Any mention of the Grand Canyon elicited different images. Because the Grand Canyon, to them, meant _breaking_ all of those rules.

Breaking every last one of them.

And, she thought, looking around at the amazing room ... breaking them all in spectacular fashion.

And God, yes, she was ready.

But ... she was just a little bit nervous.

And that was a foreign feeling to her. She'd done ... this before, just not with Rick and certainly not in a room like this. But she'd had other lovers. So why did she now feel just the slightest bit of nervousness in her belly along with the normal anticipation for what was to come?

She wasn't sure, but she didn't really have time to analyze her feelings any more before she heard him say simply, "Like it?" The words were simple and casual, but she read the meaning underneath the words, asking her if she remembered their special meaning for the 'Grand Canyon'.

How could she forget?

She walked a bit farther into the room, looking around and just taking it all in. The walls, _everything_ that could be called a wall, looked like rock. They were somewhat reddish, and the contours were uneven. The walls extended high up toward the ceiling, and Kate thought that the room must take up the area from two floors, kind of like a loft suite. The floors, too, looked like rock. They were probably tile, but they were done wth some uneven pattern so they looked more natural than planned. There were fake bushes around the room here and there, 'planted' directly into the floor.

She looked back at Rick and smiled, and realized that she hadn't answered him yet as she was still looking around with awe. "I ... sure. This is ... really something, Castle." She felt him behind her as she went back to looking around at the suite. She was starting to feel a little bit guilty, because just looking around, this suite must have cost him a small fortune. "You know, you didn't have to do all of this. You really didn't."

He put his arm on her good shoulder as he pointed toward the area on the floor that looked like a campfire. "See that?" he asked, ignoring her previous statement.

"Yeah. A ... campfire? If it really works, I guess they're not too worried about fire codes?" she said sarcastically.

"Beckett ... ambiance? Can you just go with it? I think there's a switch around here somewhere," he said, walking over to the 'rock' wall and looking around.

"Ambiance? I get the ambiance of the room. But when you're talking about flicking a switch? Castle, that just ... that doesn't really work, you know." She asked him, giving him some grief about the dichotomy between the two statements.

He gave her a look. "Beckett? Trust me. It _will_ work." He walked toward her and gave her a heated look. As he came to stop right in front of her, his face right in front of hers, he said with a raise of the eyebrows, "And I think it will work _very_ well." He left no doubt as to what he was talking about.

Two could play at that game, she thought. She bit her bottom lip and gave him that little half-smile that she knew he liked. "Oh, I don't have a doubt," she said, reaching up to the open collar of his shirt and trailing her finger lightly over the exposed skin there.

The heat in his eyes was unmistakable, especially combined with that disarming grin that she knew so well. And even though he couldn't resist leaning forward to taste her lips when she was so close to him, he kept the kiss light. After he pulled back, he leaned his forehead against hers for a few silent moments as he just looked in her eyes before saying seriously, "Sometimes I still can't believe you're really here. It was so long. Without you, I mean. I'm just so grateful that you still ..."

He trailed off, but then he was quiet for too long. She wanted to know. "That I still what, Rick?"

He pulled back a bit and shrugged, going for nonchalant, but knowing him like she did now, she could see just a little bit of discomfort and ... embarrassment? "Nothing. Did you know that there's—"

She took her finger from his chest to place it lightly over his lips. "Yes, something. Don't change the subject. That I still what?"

He heaved out a sigh. "That you still ... wanted to deal with me and all of ... this. Everything. Me being gone. The tour. Crazy fans. Paula the piranha. And now you're here, and ... I know you didn't really want to come and visit me, but ... thank you," he finished simply. He shrugged again and yes, he did look uncomfortable.

But something inside her just went a little bit gooey as she looked at him, hearing the insecurity in the faltering explanation, followed by the simple words of gratitude. Richard Castle ... insecure? But yes, she remembered, he'd been insecure before, like when she and Alexis had been talking about the hunky good looks of Colin, her physical therapist, or right before he'd left when she'd made the flip comment about only missing him for his coffee. She wouldn't have thought it was still possible, even after all this time, but she'd just heard him. It was sweet, but unnecessary, and it made her even more sure about her decision.

"Rick ..." she told him, reaching up to give him a quick kiss. "I _want_ to be here. With you. I didn't realize how much until I saw you standing in the doorway of your room. That was never a question. It was just ... the act of actually _following_ you somewhere. It just seemed so ... desperate, I guess. Pathetic. Like a groupie or a mentally imbalanced stalker. But I don't care about that anymore. I said it before and I'll say it again ... I missed you. And ... I'm glad I'm here." She raised up to give him another little kiss.

He smiled a crooked grin at her, obviously relieved. "Even though you're not mentally imbalanced, you can feel free to stalk me anytime. Anywhere, too."

And she just might do that. She just might. And he wouldn't know what hit him. But for now ... she looked around the room. "Now, knowing you as well as I do, I can probably guess that you're dying to look around this room a little bit more."

He smiled at her again. Guilty as charged. He was just a little bit too much of a geek to not want to really check the place out. And actually, she was kind of intrigued by the whole theme too. And though she knew why they were here, she knew they had time, finally. Nobody knew they were here, and that gave her a strange kind of thrill. If nobody knew where they were, nothing short of a fire alarm was going to get them out of this room. But at the same time, _she was here_, and she wasn't going anywhere. They were going to do this, and they were going to do it right. And she was going to enjoy every minute of whatever it was, even if it was just spending time together. And since they hadn't been together in a month, even something as simple as just merely being in the same room together was a treat. And plus, it gave her a little more time to have some fun with him, like she'd done earlier, before they left the other room. They'd been engaging in various forms of foreplay for years; now it was time to ramp it up a notch. They both knew where it was going to lead anyway, so she definitely wanted to have some fun getting there.

She reached down and squeezed his hand, before stepping away from him and walking around a corner of 'rock' to begin to look around the room. But then she stopped suddenly, and gaped, and pointed, and proceeded to throw back her head and laugh, as Rick, obviously seeing the same thing as she did, said enthusiastically, "How cool is THAT?"

"Not what I expected, that's for sure. I can't believe ... does it really work?" she asked, intrigued by it.

And then Castle, because he couldn't resist, walked over to the ... sleeping quarters ... that were like nothing else either of them had ever seen in a hotel before.

It looked like the 'bed' surface was only slightly elevated off the 'ground', which was uneven tile that looked like more rock. However, in keeping with the theme of the Grand Canyon, there was a tent-like structure partly over the bed like a canopy. It had 'rocks' on either side that were really nightstands, for whatever one might want to put on a nightstand. But what sent Kate into her fit of laughter was the bedding.

It was a sleeping bag.

It was a sleeping bag for two, probably custom made for the large bed, but nonetheless, a sleeping bag; puffy and with zippers on the sides, partially folded back to display the plaid interior.

After his question, he walked over to the bed and started pulling at the zipper. "It _does_ work!" he said, looking up at her with a boyish smile. "It's like a real campout, with sleeping bags and everything!"

Kate sauntered a little closer, not able to resist checking out the 'bed', especially because Castle was now there too. She walked over and without a word, or even very much hesitation, crawled on top of the thing, leaning back to relax against the pillows. She glanced up at him then, and all of a sudden, it hit her: she was laying on a bed, Castle was right there, and she was definitely _not_ tired. And nobody knew where they were.

Her thoughts of them taking their time were going up in smoke as if she'd thrown them in the fake campfire. She was still going to enjoy every minute of their time in this room, but ... oh, the _order_ of those enjoyable activities needed to change a bit, she realized.

Castle was staring at her as she crawled onto the bed. She'd just been several feet away when he was examining the sleeping bag/bed comforter. But then, she crawled onto the bed and just stretched out right in front of him. Despite the fact that her one arm was in a sling, she still managed the action with catlike grace. And when those long legs of hers were stretched out, and her hair was fanned out on the pillow, she looked at him, and her eyes got dark and ... oh, my. He'd seen that look before. He had to go into his memory banks of all of the looks of Kate that he'd memorized over the last several years, and especially since their time in the Hamptons. And he knew where he'd seen that look before, and what they'd been doing when he saw that look. And the thought made his mouth go dry.

"Mmm...surprisingly comfy," she purred as she looked up at him. "I _was_ thinking that we should order that room service you were talking about earlier, but now," she told him, biting her bottom lip for a second before raising her eyebrow suggestively, "I don't think I'm really in the mood for food anymore."

Oh, God. He couldn't speak for a moment; he couldn't even handle a coherent thought. "I ... uh ..." he stammered. Finally, he found his voice. "No food?"

She shrugged. "Maybe later, but not now. Now I think there are ... other things to do."

He stared at her, almost not comprehending what he was seeing and hearing. "Kate?"

"Hmmm?" she purred again.

"I just have to make sure: those rules of yours? Uh, those are gone now, right?" Of course. It figured that the rules had been on his mind too.

She smiled a sultry little smile as she shook her head. And her beautiful lips very deliberately formed the words that he'd been hoping to hear: "_Sooo_ far gone, Castle."

His eyes widened just a little at hearing her confirm it, and he felt that little jolt of pure lust that he only felt with her. But as his eyes took her in, sprawled on the bed like she was, they couldn't help but take in the sling that was still supporting her injured limb. "Kate, your shoulder," he reminded her, nodding at the sling, but still easing down to sit on the edge of the low bed.

She glanced down at it as if she'd forgotten about it. "Yeah, well ... it still feels okay, and if it starts hurting again, I have my magic pain pills." She reached over and touched his arm lightly. "Besides, I was kind of hoping that you might take my mind off my shoulder. Do you think you can do that, Castle?" She raised one eyebrow at him, to punctuate her very loaded question.

Sitting there on the bed, hearing her very inviting words, the whole situation felt almost surreal to him. But as he braced one hand on the side of her and leaned down by her face, he was powerless to stop his voice from responding to her question.

"_Hell_ yes."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Finally. _Finally._ And oh, it was so worth the wait.

Neither one of them knew it, but they were both thinking the same thing as they lay on the bed, snuggled together on top of the sleeping bag, both now naked as the days they were born. In deference to her injury, Kate was lying on her right side, with her injured left shoulder propped up on Castle's chest.

"Does it still feel okay?" Castle asked her, still breathing a bit faster than normal.

Her fingers strummed just bit on his bare side. "Castle," she told him in a lazy, totally sated tone of voice, "You're gonna have to define 'it' a little bit better, because right now, pretty much all of me feels a lot more than just 'okay'." She knew, on some level, that her words would give him a sense of male chest-thumping pride, but she just didn't care. She felt too good, too relaxed to care about a little bit of pride.

Sure enough, she could almost feel the grin on his face after her comment. But the statement that she would have expected to go along with the grin never came; instead, he just said somewhat seriously, "I meant your shoulder, Kate."

"Oh, yeah. That's fine too," she said in a careless voice.

"Seriously?" he pressed, needing to know for certain, despite the situation that they were now in. "I didn't ... uh, do anything ... too ... you know ... much?"

She smiled into his neck and then pursed her lips as she kissed the softer skin under his ear. "No, not too much. Just right. I'm just glad you got over being scared."

"Scared?" came the response from him, right away. "What do you mean I was scared? I will have you know—" he protested, feeling the need to defend himself over what he felt was an insult.

She cut him off with a finger over his lips, and quickly nuzzled his neck again before pulling away just a bit so she could look at him. "Castle, I asked you to help me take off my shirt and you looked at me like you didn't know what to do. You. I mean, not that I want to talk about it, but I'm sure you've taken off a few shirts in your day. So I didn't get your hesitation. Still don't."

He sighed and his face took on a more serious look, as he drew her closer to put his lips to her forehead. "I've dreamed about this, and then there you are. And we were really going to do this. Finally."

"Finally," she echoed. "But?"

"But when you took off your sling and then you asked me for help wth your shirt, it wasn't just ... this. It hit me again that you were injured. _Shot_, Kate. I didn't want to hurt you. I don't even want you to _be_ hurt."

"As corny as it sounds, you made me feel better."

He kissed her; he needed to. "I'm glad. But I knew you weren't asking me for help with your shirt because of ... well ..." he trailed off, his implication being 'for the fun of it'. "It was because you needed the help. There's a difference. And I thought maybe we shouldn't ... if you couldn't even manage your own shirt. I don't want you to be hurt," he repeated

She smiled a little smile at him, struck by how sweet he sounded. But really, what did she expect? She knew how he dealt with injuries, from when she hurt her ankle. He was overly attentive, wanting to make it all better. Why would she think this would be any different, especially given the way the color had drained out of his face when he'd heard about her being shot in the shoulder with the stupid dart?

Of course, she knew the answer to that too. _She _wasn't thinking about the injury, not then. She was thinking ahead to the room, and the bed, and what they were going to finally do in that bed.

"And Castle?" she continued in a low voice, almost a whisper, as if she was going to tell him a secret. "You were wrong. My shoulder? It really doesn't hurt a lot. I could have managed my shirt just fine. I just didn't _want_ to. I didn't _need_ help, but I _wanted_ some help." She raised an eyebrow at him. "Get it?"

She saw the light of realization dawn in his eyes. _ She'd just wanted him to undress her. _Oh, that was a heady thought, and he couldn't stop the grin from forming on his face. "So ... I was still helping you ...just for a different reason?"

"Yeah. You kinda missed that, Castle. I thought you were quicker than that," she chided.

"Beckett—" he started to say, but she cut him off with her lips on his as she moved over him, kissing him sensuously, snaking her hand down to his hip and then slightly lower. She knew she'd found her mark when she felt the catch in his breathing.

She'd moved more over him, but she was still pressed against him deliciously. Breaking the kiss, she gazed down into the intensity of his blue eyes. "I just wanted you to know that I really loved how you broke my rules just now."

The grin came back. "Well, we broke one of them quite a while ago. But Kate? I have to admit that I _really_ liked breaking the 'clothes stay on' rule just now."

"Me too," she answered with a grin of her own.

"Kate?"

"Mmm-hmmm?"

"I know you said earlier that the rules aren't really in place anymore, but ... can we just pretend they are for a little while? Because I really _like_ breaking those rules."

"Wanna break some rules again, Castle?" she asked coyly, moving her body against him and pressing a teasing kiss to his jaw.

"Uh huh!" he said enthusiastically, and his statement was punctuated by what she realized she was feeling again from the lower part of his body.

She kissed him quickly, and then with her lips almost touching his, she said, "Well, then let's be rebels and break some rules, Castle."

And no more words were said for quite a while.

* * *

><p><em><strong>After much deliberation, I decided to keep this story away from the 'M' rating. Blizzard was 'clean', and since this is the sequel, I thought it would be best for this story and reader base to keep this one the same way. I realize I may lose some readers because of that, and that saddens me, but I have other stories out there if you only want to read that type of content. So my new challenge for this story will be to see if I can still use some of those situations, but keep them non-specific and more innuendo-driven. I guess it would be almost like writing as if I have my own network censor. :)<strong>_

_**Reviews are always very much appreciated. Can't fix it if I don't have feedback about what's wrong.**_


	43. Chapter 43

_**I'm back with another chapter. Thank you so much for all of the reviews/comments on the last chapter. I truly appreciate them! **_

_**I'd like to mention review in particular: a review by mscarboncopy, who said she basically lurks but rarely leaves reviews for stories. However, she did this time, and I am so grateful for her taking the time to let me know what she thought of the story. There are so many people**_—_**the vast majority, actually**_—_**who follow stories and never give any feedback to the authors. This is an amateur writing site; if we don't get feedback, how are we supposed to improve our writing? So you are one of those people, please reconsider. You might even reap the benefits by having better stories to read. If you follow a story, you **__**do**__** have an opinion on it. If you like what an author is writing or have constructive feedback to make something better, then please tell that author, even just in a PM. The feedback is so important. So once again, mscarboncopy, thank you!**_

_**Disclaimer: still don't own them. If I did, I wouldn't be watching and rewatching sneak peeks as much as I am.**_

* * *

><p>Kate felt lazy. She felt content. She wasn't really asleep, not fully, not anymore. She had been sleeping, she supposed, but she woke just a little when she shifted in the bed and felt an arm snake around her waist and pull her back against a very warm, very muscled and very <em>naked<em> body.

Castle.

Yeah, she remembered now why she'd been sleeping.

They'd both needed a nap. They'd _really_ needed a nap. Even though her eyes were closed, she still couldn't help grinning at the recent memories.

With the memories and the arm that was anchoring her to the warm body behind her, she had no desire to do anything but stay right where she was. The weight of his arm around her felt wonderful, and she could feel his breath on her shoulder as he exhaled. He didn't appear to be awake, and she found the fact that he pulled her to him in his sleep just a little more than sweet. Normally, she might have found it a little ... much, but not with Castle. And not in her current state, with the recent stress from the case, her injury, and finally seeing Castle again after all this time. And then, finally, she thought with a smile, doing a lot more than just simply _seeing_ him. So yeah, she was just going to enjoy the new, but good, feeling, and stay put, snuggled into him as she was. And a little more of a nap sounded good too.

She was just about asleep when she woke up again, but this time not peacefully. All of a sudden, there was a sound that seemed to reverberate throughout the previously silent room and it startled her into almost sitting straight up, even though she still had that arm around her waist. Her heart was beating fast, and she felt ... danger.

The sound, she discovered—courtesy of her ability to give a split-second assessment of a situation—was coming from the floor, where Castle's pants were lying in a heap. As she listened to the sound, looked around the room and processed it in her mind, she sighed and rolled her eyes as she realized what it must be. She nudged her bed partner, who had just now begun to stir and sit up a little.

"Wha ... huh?"

"Castle! Your phone! That _is_ your phone, isn't it?"

He sat up a bit and listened to the tune that had jolted Kate out of her almost-sleep state, had first given her the unconscious feeling of danger, and then had made her roll her eyes. It was the ominous theme music from 'Jaws'. "Oh, that's just Paula calling," he said as he flopped back down in the bed.

The phone kept playing the tune of impending shark doom—which, Kate thought briefly, was kind of an appropriate ringtone for the abrasive agent—and Rick tried to tug her back against him but she stopped him. "Aren't you going to answer it?"

He yawned, and then said, "Nope," after which a big, sloppy grin appeared on his face.

But Kate was still worried; after all, her last memory of Paula was her spiriting him away at the precinct a month before. And if Paula couldn't reach him now, like she couldn't reach him then ... "But won't she—"

He started shaking his head. "Nope. She doesn't know where we are, remember?" Thankfully, the ominous-sounding ringtone stopped just then as the call apparently went to voicemail.

She _had_ forgotten about that little tidbit. "Oh, yeah." But with everything else, she still felt like they were borrowing trouble by him avoiding her. "Castle, you really need to call her back."

The smile dropped off his face. "Are you in pain?" he asked out of nowhere.

She thought about it. "Well, that was random. But no, the shoulder isn't too bad. But why? Am I grimacing or cringing and I don't know it?"

"No, I just thought you must be overcome by pain and aren't thinking clearly if you actually want me to interrupt our time here by calling Agent Piranha."

She gave him a mini-glare. "I thought she was a shark, hence the 'Jaws' ringtone on your phone?"

He shrugged. "There's no good music for a piranha. And it's close enough ... they're both nasty fish with a lot of teeth."

She rolled her eyes again and went back to his original question. "No, I don't want to interrupt our time. But whenever you avoid her, bad things happen. Do I need to remind you about when Martha let her into your loft? She had to hunt you down because you wouldn't answer her calls?" She saw him cringe a little bit at the memory of that not-so-fun evening.

"You're serious? You really want me to call her back? Now?" His voice was a little bit disbelieving, with just a hit of Castle pout.

"Not really, but if you can call her now, then she hopefully she'll leave us alone in peace after that. Maybe," she added seductively as she trailed a fingertip down his bare chest, "if you call her now, she'll leave us alone for the whole, long night."

"Okay!" he replied quickly, and a little breathlessly. How quickly this woman could turn him into mush. Well, turn his brain into mush, anyway; other parts of him were anything but mushy around her. But he still made no move to get his phone and just continued to stare at her.

"Well?" she prompted.

"Oh, you meant _right_ now? Sorry, I was just enjoying the view." He smiled a roguish smile as his eyes raked down her body and then back to her face.

She looked down at herself and realized that she wasn't covered at all. She was just sitting there, calmly having a conversation with him and wasn't wearing a darn thing except for the small bandage on her shoulder. And she hadn't even realized it.

Calmly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he got to her, she reached over to the end of the 'bed' to where one of them had thrown his shirt. She smoothly put her injured arm through the sleeve first, and then shrugged the other arm in and over her shoulder. As she started buttoning it up, Castle started whining. "Ka-aaate!"

"What?"

"Come back to bed," he asked in a slightly pleading tone. Then, his eyes got momentarily big before his face settled into another grin. "You know, I really like the way that sounds. You, me, bed. All in the same thought. Together." He waggled his eyebrows. "In a _bed_," he repeated. "And take off the shirt."

"No. The shirt stays on," she proclaimed, "until you call Paula."

"Ka-aaate!" he whined again, but she only responded by tossing his phone at his chest.

"Call her," she ordered him, "and then let's order that room service. _Now_ I definitely need some food."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

He'd told her to try the chicken. Over the course of the last month, he'd had one too many mediocre or downright bad room service steaks, and he wasn't anxious to try another. So Rick told her to choose two chicken entrees. He also made Kate answer the door, lest the waiter recognize him and end their anonymity in the room, while he hid behind one of the rock walls.

As they ate their chicken, Kate used the opportunity to give him grief about what she'd heard of his end of the conversation with Paula.

"So let me get this straight: she now thinks that you ... shall we say ... succumbed to the charms of some little Richard Castle groupie? Like she slipped you her key and you actually decided to use it?"

He had the grace to look a little sheepish. "Well, _you're_ the one who made me call her back!" He gave her a look before sticking a piece of chicken in his mouth.

"Well, _you're_ the one who was just supposed to be vague and tell her you'd see her at your next event!"

"She wanted to go over something on the itinerary with me! She wanted to come to my room! I had to tell her I wasn't there, and then she wanted to know when I would be there."

"Couldn't you just tell her not to come over ... that you were sick or something?" Kate countered before tasting a forkful of her rice.

He shook his head. "That woman has no concept of boundaries. She thinks that since she's seen me naked, she's just automatically entitled to burst in on me whenever she wants now. Goes with sickness too ... doesn't matter to her. I wouldn't be surprised if she scares the little flu germs away."

He didn't notice it, but Kate's eyes had widened slightly during his mini-monologue on Paula, and now she set her fork down and just stared at him with an incredulous look on her face.

"What? Do I have sauce on my chin?" he asked self-consciously, not able to decipher her look.

"Castle," she began, "how long have we been involved?"

"I ... uh ... is that a trick question?" he wanted to know. But honestly, he didn't know how to answer it because he knew they were actually involved in some strange way long before either of them admitted anything, or before it was official.

"No. Just answer the question."

"Uh ... well ... uh, do you mean since when we went to the Hamptons during the blizzard?"

She looked momentarily surprised. "Yeah. Of course. What are _you_ talking about?"'

"Never mind. So, oh, a few months, I guess."

"A few months. Good." She nodded. "Castle, what did we just do in that ... bed type of thing over there? Twice?" She bobbed her head backwards toward the bed, but her eyes never left his.

Rick couldn't help the slow smile that formed on his face at just the mention of what they'd done, twice, even though her question was kind of off-the-wall. But then he saw that she _wasn't_ smiling, so he forced his mouth back into a neutral look. "Uh, Kate? Since you were a rather ... active participant, I thought you knew what we did."

"Yes, _I_ know what we did. And you seem to remember what we did, and how long we've been involved. So, Castle, would you please tell me if you _really_ think it's a good idea, considering what we _just_ did for the first time, to tell me that your agent—the one you are very actively trying to avoid, I might add—has _seen you naked_?"

Naked? Did he say that? To Kate? Oh, yeah, he thought, he did say that. Oh. He opened his mouth to say something, and then shut it again, thinking better of saying something when he saw one of her glares directed at him.

Finally, he had to speak; he knew she was waiting for him to say something. "I ... uh ... suppose ... uh ... not really?"

She just looked at him. Damn her 'look'. No wonder she was such a good cop. She had that 'look'. He just didn't like _that_ look being directed at him.

"Not really? Castle, I know you weren't a monk. But I really don't want to hear about any of those past ... exploits, in any way, shape or form." She paused for a minute. "Got it?"

He nodded, not really wanting to speak at that moment.

"Good. Now, getting back to our topic of conversation before you decided to put bad images in my mind, she thinks that you're enjoying the charms and talents of some nubile young literary type?"

He sighed. "Hey, I did what you asked, okay? I called her back. I told you it was a bad idea!"

"But why couldn't you just be vague? Give her non-answers? Or—here's a thought—make something up! You do make things up for a living, you know," she finished dryly.

"I tried to be vague! But she started firing questions at me, and then it was really hard to focus because you were walking around the room in my shirt, and your legs ... I haven't seen that much of your legs since—"

"Castle!" she warned, interrupting his tangent.

"Oh, yeah, right. But you distracted me, and I said I wasn't going to be there, and she just ran with it. She was like a dog with a meaty bone." He bared his teeth for effect. "And then ... she just ... uh ... kind of assumed ..."

"That since you weren't going to be in your room, you were in someone else's room?"

"Well ... yeah. I never actually said where I'd be. And I couldn't really tell her that _I_ got another room or she'd really know something was up."

"So you think this is preferable? That she thinks you found some bimbo? Especially when you've told her several times that she shouldn't be trying to set you up with anyone on this trip? God, Castle, what is she going to try next, if she thinks that you're 'eligible' again?"

His face fell. "Oh," was all he said as he thought of the further implications. Oh. If Paula thought he was with another woman, then ... "Well ..." But then he shook his head as all of a sudden, he was hit with a new resolve. He looked around the room. "Look, I don't care. You shouldn't either. Paula will be Paula. But we're here, and," he grinned as he rubbed his hands together like he was getting ready for a good prank, "she has no idea where I am. I even put this room under a different name, so she won't find us."

His voice had a different edge to it now, and she picked up on that. She looked around the room too, mirroring the look he'd just given seconds ago. The rock walls, the 'tent', the open sky' above them. In a way, this was their own little secluded paradise. Sure, the rolling room service table didn't really fit, but she could overlook that for the room and the man who was sharing the room with her.

"Okay," she said simply.

He looked puzzled for a moment. "Okay what?"

"Okay to ... everything. We'll deal with Paula later. But you're going to mute the ringer on your phone, and I'm going to try to forget that we were interrupted by your agent, or that you're supposedly enjoying the charms of some groupie."

He grinned. "You can be my groupie. I'd love to enjoy your charms."

"Oh, I'm sure you would." She smiled at him coyly.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

He was cleaning up their room service dishes while she explored the room after hanging up a few of her clothes. There were still parts of the room that they hadn't yet seen, mainly due to the rather immediate distractions from other activities pretty much as soon as they'd entered the room. While wandering around, she rounded the corner of another uneven 'rock wall' and then she stopped dead. Looking up, she thought it looked like it was ... no, it couldn't be. But she saw some of the controls and buttons that blended into the wall, and she knew that it really was what she thought it was.

It was a small, secluded little alcove. There was a tile floor, once again designed to probably resemble rocks. A subtle drain was in the floor, a floor that gently sloped downward and most likely would be transformed into a small pool, or bathtub, when filled with water. From the drain and partially from not finding one anywhere else, she knew this had to be the shower/bathtub, but it was like no other shower or bathtub that she'd ever seen in her life. But looking out at the fake rock outcropping that jutted out from the wall, she was intrigued and just a little bit amazed; it looked like a waterfall. Or it would be a waterfall when she turned on the water.

She walked over to the controls and turned them on, also muting the lighting in the enclosed area. Sure enough, as soon as she turned on the water, it bubbled and fell over the fake rock outcropping into the open area below.

Oh, my. Seeing it, her mind was now running wild with possibilities. Visions of standing under that waterfall with Castle began to fill her mind, and she almost felt like closing her eyes and getting lost in her imagination. Even despite the last several hours, she was so used to only imagining him in her mind because they'd been apart for so long, and she was almost falling back into that trap now. But her eyes flew wide open when it fully hit her that Castle was just in the other part of the room, and he could ... they could ...

Oh, yeah.

She remembered the cosmetic bag in the other part of the bathroom, and she knew she had some waterproof bandages in it, to be used for the express purpose of keeping her shoulder wound dry while showering for the next several days . She was sure the nurses hadn't really intended this type of 'showering' when they'd given her the bandages, but she really didn't care too much about that rght now. So she stole into the other room to quickly replace the bandage, and then scurried back to where the water was still gently flowing down over the rocks. Stripping off the hotel robe that she now wore, she stepped into the gentle cascade of the warm water. Looking around as the warm water sluiced over her body, it was hard for her to believe they were really inside. In a hotel.

The scene was perfect. Well, it was almost perfect; it was just missing one thing. Castle. And she needed to remedy that.

"Castle?" she called out. There was no answer for a couple of seconds, so she called his name again a bit louder. Finally, she heard his voice as he was obviously walking closer.

"Kate? I have my phone muted now. Hey, where did you go? Are we playing a game of hide and seeee ... " His voice trailed off as he came around the rock wall and stopped in almost precisely the same place she had. However, he had a much better view than she'd had when she first walked into the room; she'd just seen an empty, cave-like area that she eventually surmised to be the shower. But he was now seeing the 'waterfall' in all of its full functioning glory, in muted, indirect lighting, with the falling water making an almost musical twinkling noise as it hit the tile and the slight water pool now forming on the floor. But the item that riveted his attention was what was in the middle of the waterfall right now.

It was one very wet, and very naked Kate.

And he was struck dumb by the sight. Air exchange in and out of his lungs proved to be a very difficult thing for him to accomplish all of a sudden. His mind flashed back to when he walked in on her in the bathroom in the Hamptons after the blizzard, and she was in much the same pose now, except she was standing up. She had her head tipped back as the water cascaded over her hair, and one hand was combing through the wet strands. But this time, her eyes were open, smoky with newly rekindled passion, and they were fixed directly on him. She stared at him, and she let him stare at her for several long, loaded moments before she finally spoke in a low, seductive tone. "Are you going to join me, Rick? The water is nice and ... hot."

Of course the double-entendre wasn't lost on him, and he blurted out on a rushed breath, "That's not all that's hot." But he needed no second invitation as he shucked off his own robe and threw it behind him as he walked down to stand before her under the falling water. Once again, they just stared at each other for several moments. He lifted his hand and ran his fingertips lightly down her arm reverently.

"This is one of those times," he said in a low voice, "that I still almost can't believe you're actually here."

She smiled a little smile at him. "I know. I even had to catch myself before ... remind myself that you were just in the next room and not a plane ride away. Seems kind of silly, considering; you know, before when we ..."

"I can relate. Do you know how many times I've woken up over the last month and thought about the Hamptons, and our sleeping arrangements during that blizzard?"

Knowing it was a rhetorical question, she didn't answer, but instead leaned forward and kissed his chest, resting her hands lightly on his hips. She felt his fingertips graze lightly down her sides, and she had to hold back an involuntary shiver from the light caress.

He tore his eyes off of her to look around. "This is amazing," he said, referring to the room and the ambiance of the waterfall shower.

"You didn't know about this from the hotel book?"

"No. It said something about a waterfall, but I didn't expect ... this."

He looked down at her again, and then lowered his lips to claim hers in a tender kiss. After pulling back, he said, "The room is nice, but you're even more amazing."

He was gazing at her with that rare intensity that he sometimes showed, and it almost took her breath away. But still she managed to say one more thing.

"You're not so bad yourself, Castle."

And then their lips met again, and hands gently caressed warm, wet skin, and no more words were spoken between them for quite a while as they began to thoroughly enjoy Grand Canyon-themed waterfalls and all that they inspired.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Thanks for reading, everyone! <strong>_

_**How did that work for some visuals at the end? I hope I described it well enough to paint some sort of a picture in everyone's minds. I tried to inject some fun, some humor and a bit of romance, so I hope that worked for you.**_

_**I just love picking on Paula. I know the agent, as portrayed that one time on the show, is just rather pushy and blunt. She's not really as terribly obnoxious as I portray her, but it's just so fun to write her like that. And really, some of that is just my Castle's interpretation of her, and of course her bad timing in relation to all things Caskett.**_

_**I always appreciate hearing your thoughts on the chapter.**_


	44. Chapter 44

_**Sorry for the delay; since the last chapter of this, I published two more chapters of another in-progress fic that I'm doing (Most Eligible Bachelor?). But this is a pretty long one, so I hope that makes up for the delay. Hope you enjoy it.**_

_**We've now had a few days of a cold fall. I want my summer back! (end whine)**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, or the city of Vegas. Or the Grand Canyon. **_

* * *

><p>"I have to get up."<p>

She rolled over so she was partially on him again, essentially trapping him. Running her fingers seductively over his chest, she said, "You already did. Several times, in fact. Quite nicely too."

As he looked at her, only one thought went through his brain: This cuddley, uninhibited, insatiable, goddess of a woman who was in his bed and delighted in doing and saying all sorts of wickedly wonderful things to him ... was this _really_ Kate Beckett?

God, he wanted to just stare at her, exactly like this, all day.

But he knew he couldn't.

He had that book signing, and then a charity dinner right afterwards. No way to get out of it.

"You lied, you know." The words were said accusingly but still somewhat teasingly. He didn't know how she did it, but she made him feel fearful, and guilty, and still oh, so turned on with just four words. They were four words random words and he really didn't even know what she was talking about, but that didn't really matter. She was still curled around him, talking to him in that sultry, satisfied voice, and he'd apologize up one side of the room and down the other just to preserve this moment.

"About what?" he squeaked, liking the feel of her hand on his chest a little too much.

"You told me once, a looooong time ago," she purred softly, "that whenever we finally got to this point, you weren't going to let me out of your bed for a couple of days. But look, now it's you who's running away. And it hasn't even been a full day," she pouted. Once again, the move and the voice were so un-Beckett-like, but still decidedly hot just because it was her, and she normally didn't do that sort of thing. At least, he didn't think she did. But maybe he was wrong.

If he was wrong about that, it was the best kind of wrong he'd ever been in his life.

"I ... uh ..." He was still trying to figure out how to respond to _this_ Beckett and remember to breathe at the same time, which was actually pretty difficult. "I'll ... uh ... make it up to you."

"You'd better," she purred, leaning forward to lay a kiss at his jaw.

He stared at her. "God, I don't want to leave."

"I don't want you to leave."

"You're not making this any easier, you know."

She smiled a knowing smile, clearly saying that was her intent before she voiced the words, "I know."

"You're evil."

He silenced her evilness with a kiss, but somehow, he still found himself downstairs forty minutes later, waiting for Paula and his hired car to take him to his book signing. It all felt surreal, and as he looked around in the hustle and bustle of the lobby, he might have thought his overactive imagination had been working on overdrive and he'd imagined the whole incredible, clandestine interlude with Kate. But he lightly took his fingers and ran them over the area right around the left side of his collarbone, where he knew he had a hickey, courtesy of Kate. It was covered by his shirt, but he could feel it, and it was a concrete reminder that he hadn't dreamed the whole thing.

He ran his fingers over that hickey so many times during the book signing that even Paula picked up on it. "What's wrong? Did you pull a muscle?"

"Huh?" Castle wanted to know.

"Your neck, duh. You keep running your fingers over the muscle like it's sore or something. Did you pull something with your little groupie last night?" Paula asked knowingly. "Although if you did pull a muscle, I wouldn't think it would be in your neck."

He pursed his lips together. "My neck is fine, thank you."

"Is your little groupie-girl fine too?" Paula wanted to know. She always did like to be in on all of the dirt.

He gave her a look through narrowed eyes. "I will repeat, my shoulder is fine. And any discussions of my personal life are off the table. Remember?"

"Oh, I just thought that mandate had to do with a certain member of law enforcement," she crowed. "But now it appears that even though you told me I wasn't supposed to set up any, uh, extracurricular activities for you, you just feel free to decide you're going to partake of the local flavor of entertainment anyway?" She acted quite put out by the thought.

Castle stared at his agent. Oh, if she only knew, he thought. The smirk would be obliterated from her face _so_ fast. He tried not to smirk himself at the thought. But he did tell her, "Well, Paula, since it's _my_ life and _my_ ... private activities, then I would say that yes, I _do_ feel free to do whatever I damn well please. You're managing the tour and my appearances, nothing else."

"Whoa, now, Ricky," Paula laughed, trying to shrug off her comment once she could see that he wasn't going to bite, "Didn't get a lot of sleep last night, huh?" At his narrowed glare, she said, "Oh, for goodness sake, I know you have sex. God, I'm surprised you haven't succumbed before now. You _have_ been gone more than a month, you know."

"Paula, we're done discussing this now."

Paula harrumphed and walked away to call someone, while he stood there, glaring at her back, suddenly bothered by the implication that she'd made.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Kate knew he wouldn't be back for a while, so after she showered, taken a pain pill (for good measure after the events of the past day) and put her sling back on her arm, she decided to take a walk around the hotel. Now that she had some time to herself, her mind kept replaying everything that had happened since she knocked on Castle's hotel room door the day before. Sometimes, in a decidedly un-Kate-Beckettlike fashion, she found herself randomly grinning at something, some memory or feeling from the past day that would just come back to her all of a sudden. She startled herself when she walked onto an elevator and there, in the mirrored walls, she saw her own smiling face staring back at her. She wasn't the type of person to walk around with a full-watt smile on her face, but that was what she'd just caught herself doing. And in seeing that, she finally decided to just embrace the feeling: she was happy. She was here with Castle, she was _glad_ that she was here with Castle, and they'd finally visited the Grand Canyon, both (almost) literally and figuratively. It had been amazing, and it felt right, and she was _happy._ It was a heady feeling.

Part of her wished that he was here to go strolling around with her, to get a bite to eat or just to people-watch—Castle _loved_ to people-watch, after all. Hell, he'd probably even love to browse through the shops. She thought of the day so long ago when they'd had to track down the candy wrapper in order to try to ID their victim, and he'd apparently felt compelled to buy something in every shop. And she still had those nested dolls around somewhere. But yeah, he'd probably _love_ to browse around in the shops.

And if they didn't go strolling around, well, she was sure they could find something else to do, in the privacy of their suite. And she felt that smile creep back onto her face again.

She found an overpriced ice cream shop and sat down on a bench outside in the hotel 'mall' area to eat the ice cream cone she'd just purchased. Maybe she could do a little people-watching and then tell Castle about it later. If they actually found time to talk later, she thought with what was surely another smile on her face.

But she didn't smile for long when she was startled by the vibration of an incoming call. Castle. He was probably bored and wanted her to talk dirty to him or something equally inappropriate. While she was fumbling to transfer her cone to the arm in the sling without dumping the cone on the ground, it rang several times before she blindly found the answer button and shoved the phone to her ear. "And I don't care if you _are_ bored, I'm not talking dirty to you."

There was a moment of dead silence on the other end of the phone before an extremely shocked sounding Ryan exclaimed, "_Uh ... Beckett?_"

"Ryan?" Oh, crap.

"Yeah ... uh ... who did you think it was? And just for the record, I'm far from bored and I really do _not_ want you to talk dirty to me. That would just be kinda ... creepy."

She closed her eyes. Well, so much for him diplomatically ignoring what she said. "So, uh, hi Ryan," she managed to stammer. "How are things going?" She tried to inject a cheery, casual tone into her voice, but she knew it was lame. With how she'd just answered the phone, she knew it was _really_ lame.

"Oh, no," came the response from the other end of the phone. "You're not getting away with saying something like that without more of an explanation. Obviously, I'm not the person you expected on the other end of the phone. So I'll ask you again: who _were_ you expecting, Beckett? Huh?" She could almost see the self-satisfied smirk on his face through the tone of his words.

But suddenly, even though her brain was just _not_ working right now in terms of coming up with any sort of diversionary tactics, she also realized with a jolt that it didn't matter if she came up with a story or not. It didn't matter because she didn't care. _She really didn't care if Ryan knew._ Somehow, she knew it was time, and just hit her all of a sudden. Maybe it was because she was tired of the hiding, maybe it was because she was still out-of-sorts from her injury and her impromptu cross-country trip, or maybe it was because she'd had what was one of the most amazing nights of her life with a man that she ... cared about a lot. She didn't know why. But she did know that the thought of telling the truth, and putting all of the secrecy to rest now, once and for all, was suddenly very appealing and oddly inviting to her. In fact, as her mind very quickly became accustomed to that idea, she felt another one of those smiles begin to appear on her face. Trepidation was gone. Now she couldn't wait to hear his reaction.

"Well, actually Ryan, I didn't look at my phone before I answered and I just assumed it was Castle."

Cue more silence on the other end of the line, probably from her easy explanation, and then because she'd just admitted that she was going to talk dirty ... to Castle? Or actually that she wasn't going to do that. But the fact that she'd sounded very comfortable answering the phone like that in the first place—when she obviously expected Castle—was just a little weird.

And strangely enough, now that she'd actually admitted something with Castle and was ready to 'fess up, it appeared that Ryan didn't really know what to do with her sudden honesty. If she was evading, that was certainly one thing. They were used to giving both her and Castle a hard time when something looked funny between the two of them. But when she fully admitted something that pointed at a more personal relationship between the two of them ... well, that was new territory. She _never_ did that. All he could think to do was say, "Ah, okaaaay. So he's ... doing something boring then?"

"Yeah. He's at a book signing and then he has some charity dinner after that."

Well, Ryan thought, he knew that she did talk to the guy more often than they did, despite the fact that he was gone on his tour. On his end of the phone, he shrugged, but then lowered his voice as he got to the point of his call. "Listen, Beckett, I know you're not supposed to do anything work related for a few days yet, but Esposito and I found out quite a bit on Billy Jack, so I—"

"On _who_?" Beckett asked, confused.

"Bil—oh, that must have been after you ... yeah. Billy Jack is William Jackson. When we got the warrant for everything to do with Carson Johnson, after he, you know, shot you with that thing, Karpowski started helping us with some of the legwork. We were still going back between his old name and new name as we tried to tie the two chunks of his life together, and one time she called him Billy Jack, and it kind of stuck."

"Okay ..." she told him, not really knowing where he was going. And she also still had her ice cream cone, so she tried to lick some of the melting treat before it made a mess all over her.

His voice lowered again, and she could just picture him looking around to make sure nobody was close. "So since you've had a few days to rest, I thought that by now you'd be itching to see some of what we found out about him. And knowing you, you're probably going stir crazy. So ... even though we know we're not supposed to even talk to you, Esposito and I thought we could come over and show you some of the files tonight, bring a pizza or something if you want. Think you're up for that?"

Once it sunk into her brain what Ryan was suggesting, she felt like laughing. He apparently hadn't read enough into her comment or explanation from a few minutes before, so now that she'd decided to come clean with the guys about her relationship with Castle, the situation _was_ almost laughable. He wanted to brief her on the case, and he had no idea that she was almost at the exact opposite end of the country. She actually didn't laugh, but the smile was on her face when she said, "Ryan? I'd love to hear about the case, but I'm actually not at home now."

"Oh." He obviously hadn't expected that. "Oh yeah, you were staying with Alexis. You still at Castle's, Beckett?"

"Uh, noooo, not exactly." She'd spent so long hiding it, that she found she didn't know the best way to just get it out in the open. So what was the best way to say this? Well, maybe direct was best. "Ryan, I flew out to see Castle yesterday. I'm in Las Vegas."

And after the words were out of her mouth, she was surprised to find that she didn't have any sort of nervous feeling, or regret at having told him. Now she was just waiting for his reaction, while she tried to finish that ice cream cone.

Ryan, on his side of the phone, now had his jaw hanging open. Did Beckett just say ... ? And if she ... then did that mean that they ... "Uhhhh," he finally managed to say. "Okay. You're with Castle. Okay. So ... uh, how's he doing?" Ryan asked blandly, not really sure what to say. Beckett didn't really share much of her personal life, and if she did, she generally didn't share things like _that_. Responding to a 'sharing' type of Beckett was definitely new territory.

"Oh, he's good." She smiled, thinking of how good he really was. "He's at a book signing now, like I said, so I'm just taking a little walk around, killing some time until he gets back to the room. But hey, I'd love to hear what you guys found out about Jackson. Can you call me later, when you're not at the precinct? Give me a rundown then?"

She'd just admitted, although rather blandly, that she'd flown out to see Castle. With everything that could be inferred from that, she still wasn't making any attempt to deny or explain. She seemed so ... nonchalant, about everything. "Oh, yeah ... sure. So how's your shoulder anyway? I should have asked that before ... sorry."

"No, that's fine. It still gets stiff sometimes, but it's a lot better than it was. Every now and then I take one of the pain pills, so that helps with some of the achiness. They just make me sleep more than normal. Castle was pretty surprised when he saw me and he was a little freaked out at first by what had happened with Jackson, but he got over it and then he said something about using Jackson's weapon for one of his next books."

She still sounded so normal, so nonchalant. And he hadn't even asked about Castle, but she still volunteered information about him. She didn't even sound annoyed with Castle for apparently liking the guy's weapon. And Ryan couldn't figure it out, because she never sounded normal or nonchalant when she talked about Castle.

He glanced over to the other side of the room where Esposito was all of a sudden making a horizontal slashing sign under his chin, which was Ryan's signal to hang up, quickly. "Listen, Beckett, someone's coming. I'll call you later, okay?"

"Thanks. Bye, Ryan."

Beckett put her phone back into her pocket and after throwng the remainder of the cone in the garbage, she went off to find a restroom to wash her hands. On the way there, she gave a big yawn, and wondered if she needed a nap, or if it was merely the power of suggestion from her having told Ryan that she slept more than normal with the pain pills.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Ryan got up and hurried to where Esposito was standing. "Breakroom!" he ordered.

Esposito followed, asking, "What's wrong?"

Ryan turned around once they got inside and said bluntly, "Beckett just said she flew to Vegas to surprise Castle."

Esposito started at Ryan like he'd been smoking something illegal. "What? No way. _Beckett_ said that?"

"I know! But that's what she said. And she was ... you know what? It was creepy. She was all happy and mellow-sounding and ... that just isn't Beckett! It was creepy!" he said again, trying to defend his impression. "Come on, when have you ever known Beckett to be happy and mellow?"

Esposito thought about it. "Okay, maybe you have a point there."

"First she answed the phone like she thought it was Castle, and she was telling him she wasn't going to talk dirty to him," Ryan started explaining. "I mean yeah, she'll say stuff like that if he starts going off on a tangent, but not just out of the blue when she answers her phone. So then I suggested we come over there tonight, and that's when she told me she wasn't at home because she flew to Vegas. To see Castle! I mean, she has to know what we're gonna think if she says something like that!"

"Well ..." Esposito asked with a raised eyebrow, "Did she ...? Finally? Her and Castle?"

"I didn't want to ask, okay?" Esposito gave him an exasperated look, and Ryan continued. "Come on. She sounded weird. Like Beckett, but like her body had been invaded by something ... nice."

"Nice?"

"Yeah. She was nice. And you know, sweet. Not one ounce of snark in the conversation, except when I tried to give her a hard time, and even then, she just talked about Castle. And she was nice. If it wasn't Beckett, I'd say she was drugged up, but that's not Beckett."

Esposito reached over to thump him on his head, but Ryan saw it coming and ducked. "Dude, she _is_ on drugs. Billy Jack's poison dart, remember? Lanie said there was a lot of stuff in there, and you know how the doctors gave her the week off to get everything out of her system. Maybe there was some bad stuff in there, and it's still ... affecting her. And maybe her mind is just a really fun place to be right now."

"You mean ... like hallucinogens?" Esposito nodded. "But she was shot days ago! Why would she still be affected by it?"

"I don't know! I'm not the doctor. Who knows what kind of drugs he got his hands on? Maybe something is longer acting or reacts with her pain pills or something."

"She did say she was still taking the pain pills," Ryan thought out loud. "So you don't think she finally ... ? You think she's just hallucinating that she's in Vegas and is with Castle, doing ..."

"What do you think?"

"Man, I don't know what to think! She just really didn't sound like Beckett, that's all."

"And she just ... admitted that she flew out to see Castle?" Esposito asked, and Ryan confirmed it with a nod. "Okay, yeah, that's not Beckett. No matter how long he's been here shadowing her, she would not just hop on a plane to jump his bones out of the blue like that," Esposito reasoned. "And yeah, remember when he invited her to the Hamptons that summer? No, she was burned by that, and he even invited her then! She wouldn't just hop on a plane to chase him down after all of these years of doing nothing to encourage him."

The two of them stood around and nodded. But then Ryan said, "But it's still weird. And why would she say that?"

"You got me. I don't know. Good Billy Jack drugs?" But then he got a gleam in his eye. "You know, there's a really easy way to find out. And it takes a potentially drugged up, suddenly-nice detective right out of the equation."

Ryan saw where he was going. "We call Castle."

"But this time, let me make the call."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Rick was checking messages on his phone while he was waiting for the car service to take him to the charity dinner. He really wanted to call Kate, but Paula was standing close enough and he didn't want to give her the chance to overhear anything. Not a word. So he had to settle for a text, but he hadn't received an answer from her yet.

For something to do, he just hit the button to play Angry Birds when his phone began to vibrate, showing an incoming call from Esposito. "Esposito! How's it going?"

"Hey, Castle. Pretty good here. You probably heard we caught the John-killer."

"Yeah, yeah, I did hear that..." he said, trying to keep his voice bland even as the memory of Kate in a sling flitted through his mind, all the while knowing that he couldn't give any indication that he'd even seen her in the sling.

Esposito, on his end, was prepared for more of a reaction than what he got. So he pressed a little further. "So did you hear how it went down? From Beckett?"

"Uh, yeah...she, uh, called me. It sounded pretty tense. You got the guy though, huh?" As he said it, he could see Paula walk toward the door of the lobby, motioning him to follow; the hired car must have arrived.

"Yeah, we got the guy. Look, Castle ... is Beckett with you?"

There was a pause during which the breath froze in Castle's lungs. "What?" was all he managed to say.

"Is Beckett with you? Simple question. We stopped by to see her," he fibbed, "and she wasn't at her place. We thought maybe she'd decided to go visit you or something."

Even though his stomach caught a little bit when Esposito said they'd went to Kate's apartment, that was _not_ the question Castle expected to hear coming from the other end of the phone. Conscious of getting to close to Paula as he began to move to follow her out of the other hotel where they'd been, the automatic denial formed in his brain and he said in a low voice, "No, she's not with me. Maybe she, uh, went for a walk? Or to her dad's?"

"Huh. Maybe. You sure she's not there with you?"

"Yes! I'm sure!" he reinforced. Technically she _wasn't_ there with him then, he thought as he ran his hand over his hickey yet again. But God, he wished she was there right now. Or that he was back in their room. But Esposito ... "Why would you think she would be, anyway? I mean, here? Geez, Esposito, does that sound like something Beckett would do?"

"Oh, well ... just had to check. We'll try her at her dad's."

"Okay, uh, yeah, let me know if you find her, okay? I should probably send her a get well card, or maybe some flowers. Wherever she is." He was proud of himself for that last statement, the standard show of concern for a coworker.

The men said their goodbyes, and Esposito disconnected the call as he put it back in his pocket.

"Well?" Ryan asked.

"She's not there. Castle wants to send her a get well card." He paused and then said, "She must really be imagining things."

Ryan nodded his head. "Like she'd really go out to visit Castle. Yeah, right. She must be soooo high."

They nodded at each other again and then it occurred to Ryan, "So where is she then?"

Esposito shrugged. "She's probably in her apartment, but she just doesn't _think_ she is. Wonder what Billy Jack put in that dart? Must be some _good_ stuff."

"So should we still take her a pizza?"

"Sounds good to me. Might be a good idea to check up on her anyway."

The guys nodded at each other once more, and then went off to figure out what information they could secretly give to Beckett when they took her the pizza.

* * *

><p><em><strong>I don't know if I should explain my rationale, but I will anyway: remember, R&amp;E don't know that there's been a relationship for a few months already. So to them, it would really be OOC for her to visit Castle. Meanwhile, she's basking in the afterglow and the happiness of being with him finally, so she's just assuming that Ryan picked up on her 'we're involved' vibes, especially after the 'talk dirty' comment, when in reality he's just not getting it because he's never seen her in happycontent (and satisfied?) mode before. And Castle? He's still in 'Deny everything or Beckett will shoot me' mode, and he's actually pretty good at it now. :)**_

_**Thanks for reading!**_


	45. Chapter 45

**_No, this is not a hoax. This is actually a new chapter of "Melting Slowly". _**

**_If you've read any of my other more recent stories, you'll know that I lost my writing motivation a while ago. It takes an insane amount of time to write and edit just one chapter, and I just couldn't do it anymore. But if you've followed this or any of my other stories, please know that I had ALWAYS intended to come back to this story eventually, and also to my other stories that are in-progress. It just took me a (long) while. My motivation is still not back to what it was when I created this story, but I got enough back to write this chapter. I hope you all enjoy it. _**

**_And because it's been a while, I'd advise you to go back and reread at least the last chapter (ch. 44) before you read this new one. That should help you remember where things left off._**

**_Enjoy!_**

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><p>Castle finally made it back to the hotel after his events. He wanted nothing more than to escape as quickly as he could to the Grand Canyon Suite, but the difficult part was trying to ditch Paula, who kept coming up with things to discuss with him. He kept trying to wrap it up, saying he was tired, saying that they didn't need to discuss it now, or generally threatening to fire her, but nothing swayed her. She just kept talking and following him, even offering to come to his room and order room service while they talked. He could see through her; he knew that she was more than intrigued about what she deemed his 'groupie-girl' from the night before and he knew that she was hoping that if she stuck to him long enough, she'd eventually get a look at his mysterious woman.<p>

Well, he wasn't going to let that happen. There was no way that she was going to find out that Kate was visiting him, not if he had anything to say about it. Their relationship, whatever it was, was none of Paula's business. And he just wanted to keep it between the two of them.

He was racking is brain trying to think of a way to get away from Paula without going nuclear on her. He finally got his chance when he spotted the restrooms in the hotel lobby and told Paula that he had to make a pit-stop. She _would_ be brazen enough to follow him into the Men's room, but not in such a public place. He offered to catch up with her later, but when she cheerily refused and said that she'd wait for him, he knew that his assumption about her motives was right on the money.

So when he promptly escaped into the opposite hallway via the other entrance to the restrooms, he felt no guilt. He quickly scurried out the door and down to the bank of elevators that was across from the restroom back entrance, frequently looking over his shoulder like a hunted man would look when he's being chased by the law.

As soon as the elevator doors had closed, one thought went through his mind: freedom! And he felt a giddy laugh bubble up in him as he realized that he was totally free of her clutches at last.

The only problem was that this elevator wasn't in the same tower as their suite, so he'd have to go back down to the lobby to go to the other tower, and he'd have to risk seeing Paula again.

So instead he got out on the next floor up which had a gallery of little shops and boutiques. And he found a bench and called Kate.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Hey, handsome," came the breathy voice from close behind him, mere minutes after he'd called Kate.

His head whipped around to look for the source of voice even as he jumped away a bit, obviously startled. When he fully caught sight of Kate standing behind him, with a surprised look on her face, he visibly relaxed and breathed a deep sigh of relief before exclaiming in awe, "Where did you come from?" Then, as he fully registered her presence, he broke into a big grin as he stepped toward her and pulled her into an embrace. "You don't know how happy I am to see you."

"You could have fooled me, the way you jumped when you heard my voice," she chided as she pulled back to look at him. "I missed you," she said softly as she touched his face.

He stared into her eyes, the hustle and bustle of the popular shopping area forgotten. He felt like he could stare into her eyes forever, anywhere. He was smitten. He was gone; he was so far gone. Because of her. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

And once again, the emotion of having her here swelled up inside of him and his mouth started talking just a split second before his brain engaged. "I love—" He stopped short when he heard and registered the words that had just crept out of his mouth. There were a few long seconds when her brow furrowed before her eyes widened as she just stared at him. "Uh ... I _love_ that you missed me," he said with forced emphasis.

He held his breath. Because just when everything was going so well for them, just when she'd made such a big statement and had taken a leap of faith in their relationship by coming to see him, he had to almost ruin everything. In the heat of the moment of seeing her again after this interminably long day, he'd almost said those three words that he had no business saying; something that, from her previous reactions to anything along those lines, he knew she didn't want to hear. He knew it would freak her out that they were moving too fast (even though by now he thought that was a stupid notion), and she would pull back or, worse yet, run. He just hoped that his attempt to cover for his gaffe wasn't terribly obvious. "I didn't expect you to be here this soon," he continued quickly, still trying to redirect her attention, "and I'm so happy to see you. And Paula was ... oh, never mind. I'm just glad you're here." And he folded her into another embrace, closing his eyes and hoping that he managed to cover well enough.

Kate's chest had lurched a little bit when she'd heard what he'd said, at what she thought he'd started to say. Maybe. Was he going to say ... ? But no ... he looked so uncomfortable, almost mortified at what he did say, that she knew he couldn't have meant ... _that. _She knew that she'd shied away from that sort of thing in the past, but things were different now. She'd evolved. And somewhere inside her, she now realized that she felt a definite pang of disappointment at what was _not_ said, and it surprised her a lot more than she would have ever expected; that she'd actually be disappointed to _not_ hear those words.

But if Castle could play it light, then Kate could too. She _was_ happy to be here with him, and he seemed equally as happy that she was here, and she was just going to concentrate on that. She was going to enjoy it. That's why she was here, after all, right? So she pulled back to look at him again. "What's going on?" She looked at him quizzically, noting the look of near desperation on his face. "You sounded kind of strange on the phone. And I was kind of surprised that you didn't just, you know ..." she said coyly, beginning to run a finger around his jawline and down his chest, "come back to the room to ... rest. Or maybe _not_ rest, I guess ..." She really loved this newfound power she had over him, and she liked using it. The fringe benefits on her side weren't so bad either.

"Kate..." he murmured, closing his eyes. He still wasn't used to _this_ Kate, this uninhibited goddess of a woman that she'd proven herself to be the night before. And he wanted to fully experience that Kate, but first ...

"Come on," he said, grabbing her hand and stepping away. "We have a stop to make, and I want to make sure that you have something to eat."'

"Who needs food?" she said wickedly, with a seductive grin attached.

Castle had to blink a few times as he gulped loudly, just to try to settle himself against the look that he saw in her eyes. Oh, man.

"_You_ need food," he countered, finally able to find his voice. "You're healing from that ... whatever it was. And then we're going to make a little stop, nothing too long. But I guarantee that you'll like it."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes." He nodded. "Guarantee it."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"You're kidding! That's really him?" Kate asked as she sat leaning against him in the dimly-lit half-circle booth that looked out onto the piano area. "Castle, how did you find him? How did you even remember?" She sounded so... in awe, and he was loving it. His earlier gaffe apparently forgotten, they were now just enjoying being together once again.

He nodded smugly. After taking a sip of his drink, he told her, "Les Montgomery. Roy's cousin, the piano man. Remember, Roy said that his cousin played in a piano bar in Vegas? And it all popped back into my mind today, so I sent a text to Roy, asking him where his cousin played. Turned out that he was working tonight, _and_ this place is actually rated pretty good on the food too."

"How can you be certain that Paula won't find you?" she asked as she snuggled a little closer to him, if that was possible. She was actually messing with him just a bit, having already heard the whole story about his escape from Paula on the ride over.

He shuddered comically before he looked at her through a narrowed eye gaze. "Are you _actually_ trying to ruin the moment?"

She raised her face up and back as she looked at him, before giving him a lingering, sensual kiss. "Are you _actually _saying that we're having a 'moment' right now? Because if we are, I can think of a few other things to do instead of ..." she trailed off suggestively.

He responded naturally to her comment with another brush of his lips against hers-who wouldn't, after all-but at the same time wondered who this woman was? Who was this woman who kept making the very thinly-veiled suggestive comments; who, from her actions and her words, seemed very eager to get him alone to ...

No, he couldn't go there. For his own sanity right now, he couldn't go there.

Breathe deeply, Rick, and think of ... something else. Anything else.

Blessedly, their waiter chose that moment to appear, bringing the small appetizer that they'd ordered when they were seated, and asking them if they were ready to order any entrees. Rick picked up the menu and, after quickly scanning it, told the waiter what he wanted. And even with his mind on what to order, he was still aware of Kate, who was still snuggled up against him in the booth, and surprisingly hadn't made any effort to scoot away when the waiter came.

And that was another thing that was different; before, she would have never sat snuggled up against him in any sort of a public area. He tried not to think about how good it felt for her to be snuggled into him, and he tried not to think about the last time she was pressed against him. Naked. Oh, no, he didn't need to think of that. But he made his mind clear and he realized that she hadn't ordered any food, which was the purpose of her being here.

"You need to eat," he told her, obviously changing the subject, mindful of the waiter who was standing there, patiently waiting for them to complete their order.

She heaved out a long sigh and gave him a mini-eyeroll. "Yes, Castle, we can eat," she told him, as if eating was such an imposition. She sat up then, and started moving out of the booth. "I'm going to go to the Ladies' Room to freshen up. Why don't you order something for me when I'm gone?" She managed to give the waiter a dazzling smile as she slipped out of the booth, leaving a somewhat stunned Castle staring up at her as the waiter tried to figure out if he should wait for the order or give them a few more minutes.

Rick's eyes widened slightly and he stared at her, his mind flashing back to their first time eating out after they'd begun dating, when she got bent out of shape because he'd ordered for her. Out of reflex, he asked, "Me ... order? Are you _sure?_ I mean ... what do you want?"

She waved her hand at him dismissively. "Whatever. You know what I like." The she stopped and got a saucy look on her face. "In more ways than one. But just food for now, Castle, 'kay?" she told him with a wink as she headed off toward the restroom.

He sat there, stunned at her implication yet trying to put it out of his mind for now, especially with the poor waiter still standing right there, waiting for the rest of their food order. But then he grinned at her retreating back, irrationally pleased by the small fact that not only was she here with him, she was going to let him feed her.

He glanced at the menu and after scanning it quickly, told the waiter the first thing that he found that he knew would appeal to Kate. And then as the waiter retreated, he sat back to catch his breath.

Kate was here.

With him.

And they'd actually ... visited the Grand Canyon. Well, _their_ version of the Grand Canyon, anyway.

After so long without her, he could still hardly believe it. He'd been thinking about it all day (definitely more than he should have been!), yet as soon as she was out of his sight, he all but convinced himself that it must have been a dream. Because the last 24 hours had been perfect, and how often did perfect really happen to him? So it must have been a dream.

But he was soon interrupted from his Beckett fantasies by the vibration of his phone. Taking it out of his pocket, he saw that Ryan was calling him. He instantly debated about taking the call or not, but decided to take it, but try to get him off the phone as quickly as possible so he wouldn't hear Kate if she happened to come back to the table during the call.

"Hey, Ryan. What's up?" Castle tried to sound casual.

"Castle," he started, sounding somewhat stressed and more than a little nervous, "we need your help. We have a problem."

"You need my help? Uh, that's flattering, guys, but I'm in Vegas, you know? I'm not really in close proximity-"

"Dude," he interrupted, "we don't know what else to do. I mean, it's Beckett."

"What's Beckett?"

Castle heard a long huff on the other end of the line. "Castle, I don't know how to tell you this, but Beckett is missing. You haven't heard from her lately, have you?"

Had he heard from Beckett? Castle's mind flashed to how she was just snuggled up against him, and the suggestive look she'd given him as she left to go to the restroom.

Oh, no.

He didn't like to lie. Especially to his friends. And the guys were his friends.

But Beckett...she didn't want the guys to know. And she was...he was...they were...well, her feelings trumped the guys' feelings. Not to mention the fact that she would probably beat him to a pulp if he gave them any inkling that she was here, and that they were more involved than just 'cop and shadow'.

So yeah, Beckett won, so he tried to spontaneously cover himself with the guys and not let on about their true relationship and act concerned, all at the same time.

"Beckett's missing? What do you mean...missing?" He tried to inject a note of incredulity into his voice without really answering Ryan's question.

"She's gone, Castle. We can't find her. We went by her place and there was nobody there. She's not at your place either. And we even called her Dad, and he said she wasn't with him. And really, that wouldn't be a problem except she's been shot and she's not...right. We know she's supposed to be resting, and she's on pain meds because of that...thing...that Billy Jack shot her with. And, well, we're just wondering if she's whacked out of her mind and doesn't know where she is or something."

The guys went to Beckett's apartment? And they went to the loft? "Uh ..." Rick started, trying to think himself out of this quickly. When the guys had called before and asked if Beckett was with him, he'd more or less just evaded. But now, it was obvious that he couldn't do that anymore. The boys seemed determined to find her. He needed to have Kate call them, and somehow convince them that she was okay. But first, he needed to get off the phone so he could talk to her. And so she didn't come back while he was talking to the boys.

"Listen, guys, I'm sure Beckett's fine. Just fine. Maybe she ... I don't know. Maybe she ran out of coffee and went to the store to get more."

"Then why won't she answer her phone? Huh? I talked to her a little while ago, and that was ... weird. She wasn't normal, Castle. But we've been calling her lately and there's no answer. Between me and Esposito, we've called her at least a half dozen times. Castle, you should have seen her go down when she got hit with that thing. She just dropped to the ground like a ... a dead weight. There was some nasty stuff in there. She was out right away, and she didn't wake up for half the day. We were all pretty worried." Ryan's voice had a tinge of genuine worry in it that Rick didn't hear very often, and coupled with brief description, was enough to make Rick close his eyes as he remembered once again that Kate had been shot by some genius madman.

"I ... uh ... I'm not sure why you can't reach her. Bad reception? Maybe ... uh ... she went shopping. They have all of those stores in Times Square that have the sub-basements. Maybe she's in ..."

He trailed off as he took note of a smiling Kate as she slid back into the booth next to him. His brain went numb as he tried to reconcile the fact that Kate was now sitting next to him again while he was telling Ryan that he didn't know where she was.

She slid all the way over toward him with a dazzling smile on her face and leaned in to give him a kiss, despite the fact that he very obviously was on a phone call. "Who is it?" she whispered after the quick kiss.

He started to answer her, but was distracted by Ryan shouting in his ear, "Castle? Hey, Castle, are you still there?"

"Uh ... yeah," he told the detective absently. Then he had a thought. "Yeah, I'm still here, RYAN," he said pointedly while looking at Beckett and raising his eyebrows comically like he was making an important point.

Kate rolled her eyes at how obvious he was. But before she could get her eyes back in a normal position, he was already going further in the same exaggerated tone. "So, RYAN, you think Beckett is MISSING, huh? Because you went by her APARTMENT and the LOFT and she wasn't THERE, right?"

When Kate heard that, the amused eyeroll became a expression of puzzlement. Missing? Her? What were they talking about?

Castle, holding the phone, only heard silence on the other end of the line. If he'd had a webcam with a view of the precinct, Castle would have seen Ryan take his phone away from his ear and look at it with a puzzled face, before putting it back to his ear and saying, "Hey, Castle, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, RYAN," Rick told the detective. He noticed Kate rolling her eyes again. Then Kate shocked him with what she did next. As he started to tell Ryan more about how he couldn't imagine where Beckett was, she simply reached over and took the phone from him. And because she was leaning into him and pressed a lingering kiss to his lips at the same moment she appropriated his phone, he was basically powerless to stop her.

Smiling at Castle's shocked expression after she ended the kiss, she spoke to the phone she now held to her ear. "Hey, Ryan. Why are you calling Castle about me? And what in the world are you saying about me being missing? You know where I am. I talked to you just a little while ago."

Once again, there was dead silence on the other end of the line. The non-existent webcam would have shown Detective Kevin Ryan's jaw drop as he recognized the voice of his fellow detective, the one he'd just talked to earlier that afternoon , yet he was having problems mentally processing the thought that he was hearing _her_ voice when he knew he'd called Castle. In Vegas. And she was supposed to be roaming the streets of New York in a drugged up stupor, not talking to him on Castle's phone. From Vegas.

"Uhh..." was all he could manage.

"Ryan?" she asked again.

"Uh...Beckett?" he dared to ask.

"Yeah, it's me. Castle was being all weird so I took his phone."

Castle, meanwhile, was having a mini conniption fit of wide eyes, mouth contortions and random, frantic hand gesticulations. She tilted the phone away from her mouth and talked to him, resting a hand on his shoulder and gently caressing it in a calming gesture. "Castle, calm down! We'll get this straightened out." Turning her attention back to the phone, she asked Ryan, "I just talked to you and told you I was in Vegas. Why are you calling Castle about me? And why in the world would you think that I'm missing?"

At her words, Rick just closed his eyes and slumped back in the booth in defeat. But then he registered what she'd said, and his eyes popped open again. "Wait, you talked to him? Today? And you told him..."

"Yes, I talked to him. Earlier this afternoon," she told Rick, then she turned her attention back to the phone, which was still silent at her ear. "Ryan, are you still there?"

"Uh...yeah. I'm here. Uh, Beckett?"

"Yes?"

"So ... you're really in Vegas. With ... Castle?" His voice held a definite tone of disbelief.

"Ryan, what is _wrong_ with you? Yes! I'm in Vegas! With Castle!"

Ryan, still trying to process this bit of news that he had NOT expected, merely said, "Um ... uh ... okay. So how are you feeling?"

"Ryan, we talked about this earlier, and I still feel about the same. Thanks for asking, but hey, can we talk later?" She leaned over toward Rick again and was nuzzling his neck when she finished, "Castle just got back after all of his book tour obligations, and I'd just like to ... catch up with him now."

"Uh ... yeah. So, uh, when should I—"

"Good," Beckett said, cutting him off because she was paying more attention to the man sitting next to her. "Talk to you later." And the call was ended.

She set the phone on the table as she leaned in for another kiss. "So what did you order me?" she asked Rick.

"Seafood ravioli. But Beckett ... can you tell me what just happened? Because I'm not really sure."

"What? You mean with that phone call? I have no idea. Why would he call you and say I'm missing? I just talked to him earlier and I told him I was here. It's almost like he didn't believe me."

"You really talked to him earlier? AND you told him you were here? _With me?_"

She shrugged, but only with her good shoulder. "Yes, and yes. Geez, Castle. I'm not going to tell him I was with someone else."

"No, but ... Kate, you _told him about us_. I thought we were supposed to be keeping our relationship a secret yet!"

She shrugged again. "I figured it was time," she told him nonchalantly. "I'm happy I'm here with you, and I just didn't see the point in prolonging the charade anymore. So I told him when I talked to him before."

Suddenly, the chain of events dawned in Rick's brain. He slapped his palm lightly on his forehead. "Well that explains it." At her puzzled look, he began to explain the earlier call he'd received from Esposito, the strange questioning he'd received about her being with him, and how he'd deflected and stretched the truth. "So between your confession and my denial, they probably didn't know what was going on."

She shook her head and smiled, "They thought they had a missing persons case. We'll have to set them straight. But ... not right now. I want to eat my food, and then I want to have dessert. A private dessert, if you know what I mean. In our suite." She let that sink in for a few moments. "I sure hope you don't have plans tomorrow," she said coyly.

He'd been mesmerized by what she was hinting at, but then reality came crashing back to him as soon as he heard her last words. His face fell. "Kate ... about tomorrow ... I have to leave."

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><p><strong><em>More about Ryan and Espo in the next chapter. Who remembered about Montgomery's cousin who played piano in Vegas? That was from the chapter with the heavy metal band names. Bonus points if you did!<em>**

**_Once again, even though I know it's been a very long hiatus, I still hope you enjoyed the chapter. I really hoped I kept the flow of the story after so long. _**

**_Constructive comments are always appreciated._**


	46. Chapter 46

_**I know it's been a LONG time since I've updated this story. If you've stuck around this long and are still interested, thanks. It was always my intention to finish this story, but unfortunately, there was just a long hiatus before I could do that. If you're new, you should probably go back and read Blizzard and the previous chapters of this story first.**_

_**And even if you have been following this story, you should probably go back and read at least the last chapter or two before you read this one. That should make this chapter flow better.**_

_**Disclaimer: the usual.**_

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She stared at him, and then raised one eyebrow. "You _what_?" she asked in a challenging tone.

He hurriedly explained. "The book tour. I'm only in Vegas through tomorrow morning. And I really want to stay here longer, with you, just holed up in that Grand Canyon suite. For a month or two. Maybe a year. Yeah, a year would be good, except that I'd miss Alexis and..."

"Rick ..." she warned him.

"Yeah. Oh, right. Well, I have the tour, and my flight is tomorrow at around noon. I'm sorry I didn't say anything, but I didn't know. Or, I mean I knew I was on tour, of course, but I didn't even realize that I had to leave here until later this afternoon when Paula mentioned it. I just always had it in my head that I had another couple of days here, but that was from before you got here. I guess time sort of stopped when I saw you standing on my doorstep yesterday afternoon." He shrugged, hoping that didn't sound too cheesy, even though it was true.

"So I guess tonight is our last night for a while, huh?" she said disappointedly.

He looked cautious, but with some underlying hope beneath the caution.

"Welllll ..." he drew out. "I was thinking ..." he started, but then he stopped, looking hesitant.

"Castle, out with it."

He looked like he was bracing himself for bad news, or a punishment, or both. Finally, he said, "I have to go to Denver next. Tomorrow morning. I thought ...maybe...uh, you could go with me? I mean, not necessarily on the same flight, in case Paula saw you, but I could get you a ticket and you could just meet me there. We could get a different room and everything, just like here, so Paula couldn't disturb us. They probably don't have the Grand Canyon, but we could try to get a suite with a nice jacuzzi tub or something. I know it's not the same, but, uh ... I can't stay here, and I have to go, but I really want you to come with me, if you will, if you want to, if you can ..." he stammered.

She sat silently for a long while after his words trailed off. So long, in fact, that he started to get a little more than a bit worried. "Your book tour. You have to go to Denver for your ... book tour?"

"Yesssss," he said, drawing out the last sound. He waited for her reaction as she sat and contemplated what he'd said.

"And...you want me to come with you?" she clarified.

"Yes. I really do. I mean, only if you'd want to. Oh, hell, even if you don't want to. I still want you there."

"You want me to come along even if I don't want to?"

"That didn't come out right. But, uh ... yeah. I mean, I want you to want to be there, of course. But I really just want you with me. The best part of this damn tour was when you knocked on my door last night. And, uh, what came after it ... you know ..."

"So I just got on a plane, came all the way out here to see you, and now you have to leave. And I'm supposed to follow you?" Her voice held a little bit of Beckett attitude, complete with 'the look' and the raised eyebrow.

"Yes?" he confirmed with a squeak and a gulp, even though it sounded more like a question.

She pursed her lips. She nodded slowly. "Okay then," she said finally, not really looking at him. He swallowed nervously. He was starting to get a flashback of when he told her about this book tour initially, and they'd had that monstrous fight. He swallowed again, wondering if he should keep talking or if he should just stay quiet. Things had been going so well, with her surprising him, and having their own little private world inside that suite, away from everyone. But now ... it could all be ruined. Forgotten, in the midst of crashing back to earth by him having to leave for another city on the tour. Oh, why didn't she say anything else? Watching her think about and process this latest development was making him very, very nervous.

But finally, she leaned just a bit closer and, finally looking straight at him, commented, "Since Denver is the Mile-High City, does that mean we can claim the Mile-High Club if we have sex when we're there?" She punctuated her question with a very slight but sly little grin. "Or is that only reserved for planes?"

He blinked as he stared at her. Did she just say ... ? Really? And then, he noticed the twinkle in her eye just as he registered that sultry little grin that came after the words that he thought he heard. His eyes got big and he couldn't keep the smile from blooming slowly on his face. "You'll go to Denver? With me? Really?"

"Well, I'm certainly not going to go with anyone else," she told him sassily. "It just wouldn't be any fun to stay here by myself. And of course, since I'm not nearly done having my wicked way with you, I guess I just have to go with you."

And Richard Castle, who , after having his secret girlfriend surprise him while on his tour, thought he couldn't possibly be shocked anymore, just sat there and stared at his girlfriend with a dumbstruck look on his face. He'd been so worried about her reaction to his news about having to continue his tour, and he just never expected her nonchalant agreement. And then her comment about the mile-high club...well, he wasn't even going to touch that one. Yet. So he just sat there and stared at her with a dumb, shocked look on his face while she looked back at him with amusement, thoroughly enjoying just being with him again.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"We really have to do this now?" she asked as she ran her arms around his midsection and pressed her lips to his neck.

They were back, _finally,_ to the Grand Canyon suite after Castle was sure that he'd fed Kate enough to keep her strength up after her injury. For once, he wasn't the one who was eager to end up horizontal. Well, he _was_ eager for that, but he was more concerned about Kate, and making sure that she got a good meal. He was still concerned about her injury, and even though he knew from recent activities that she was pretty much fine, he also knew that she wasn't fully at one hundred percent.

Of course, Paula had tried to call him several times after he'd ditched her at the hotel. She was so persistent that he finally resorted to changing her ringtone from the Jaws theme to no ringtone at all...just silent. Finally, at Kate's suggestion, he did send her a text, instructing her to stop trying to contact him and that he would meet her in the lobby of the hotel at 9:30 the next morning, in plenty of time for their noon flight.

While they were waiting for their food, he also called Alexis to ask her to book Beckett on a flight for Denver. She found one leaving at 11:15, just a bit earlier than Castle's flight. They planned it so Beckett would hopefully get in first, and would then go to the hotel to get their room. Rick would meet her there as soon as he could ditch Paula again.

And now, after all of the arrangements had been made for the next day, the Detective was thoroughly trying to take advantage of all of that preplanning by not wasting any time. She'd come all of this way to see Rick again, and in all honesty do a lot more than just _see_ him, and though she'd originally had some major trepidation, she was fully on board and comfortable with the idea now. And now that they were alone again, she wanted to fully experience more-than-seeing him again, and soon.

"Yes ... uh, don't you want to ... uh ... Kate! ... uh ... don't you ... uh ... need to rest?"

She let her good arm wander a bit around his backside, and she grinned as he gave a startled gasp. "We'll have plenty of time to rest, later, don't you think?"

"But we really ... uh ...need to get everything ironed out for tomorrow. So, uh ..." he trailed off as her hand moved around and next started working on the buttons in the front of his shirt. He was mesmerized by the sight. Kate was undressing him. And there was no way he could keep his train of thought when that happened.

"So, uh, what?" she prompted casually, as she worked her way lower on his chest. "I mean, you don't _really_ want to talk about Paula anymore, do you?"

He swallowed roughly, wondering if he'd ever get used to this new Kate. "Paula who?"

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When the alarm on Kate's phone rang at 6:30 the next morning, Castle groaned loudly. "Nooooo. 'S too early. Turn it off," he commanded sleepily as he felt Kate shift next to him. She reached over to the 'rock' table and silenced the alarm before snuggling into him once more. But she didn't put her head down; instead, she gave him a dazzling, although slightly sleepy, smile.

"Good morning," she greeted him, punctuating her greeting with a kiss.

"Excellent morning," he told her. "Good doesn't begin to cover it, when I'm greeted with the sight of you in my bed."

"Well, technically, this is a sleeping bag."

"Doesn't matter, because we didn't do a whole lot of sleeping in this bag last night anyway," he clarified with a satisfied smirk and a raised eyebrow.

She let out a little, very un-Beckett-like giggle. "I know."

"And speaking of which, why did the alarm go off that early anyway?" he asked through a sudden yawn.

"I set it."

He looked sideways at her like she was insane. "You set it? For that early? Why?"

Raising up and leaning over him a bit, she gave him a saucy look, even despite the early hour. "I've discovered that waking up with you gives me certain...ideas," she explained. "And we have a plane to catch. Well, planes, plural. But anyway, those ideas need some ... time. So I thought that we should wake up a little earlier."

"To work on your ... ideas? Before we have to leave?"

She nodded. "Uh huh." And as realization of her meaning dawned in his brain, he couldn't stop the smile that grew on his face.

"You know, Beckett? I think I really love your ideas," he told her as he finished pulling her toward him for a kiss. And after that, no words were spoken in the Grand Canyon suite for quite a while.

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"I wish you didn't have to leave," Rick pouted.

"I know. But you're leaving too, you know. And we're going to meet up in a few hours."

"You promise you won't go back to New York?" he asked, sounding just a bit worried that she might somehow ditch all of their carefully plotted plans just to go back home. "I know the suite in Denver isn't nearly as cool as this one—"

"Go back to New York?" She gaped at him. "The suite isn't ... Castle, what are you _talking_ about? Where in the world did that come from?"

"Well ..." he started stammering, showing his discomfort. "I just ... it's ... I thought ... " He let out a big sigh. "Okay, I know it sounds stupid, but when I was shaving, I started thinking about how long it took us to get here, and how we're moving slowly, and I know you didn't want to rush things ... take things slowly, and now ... I just thought maybe you'd have second thoughts. You're going to an airport, and they have flights to New York too, and I just started thinking that it would be really easy ..." he trailed off

"You think I might be having second thoughts, and that I might hop a plane back home instead, so you start talking about the potential quality of the suite you booked in Denver?" She rolled her eyes. _"_If I'm having doubts, do you _really_ think that the quality of the suite is going to make a difference?"

"Well, now that you put it like that, no." He looked pained. And worried.

She walked over to him. "Castle, we have a plan, and I'm going to follow the plan. And the plan does not involve me going back to New York right now. Okay?"

He loved how ... mellow she was about 'them' now, and he loved how comfortable she seemed with their relationship now. She didn't even want to hide things anymore, and even though it had really shocked him, he loved that. He just loved ... no. He wasn't going to go there, not even in his own mind. They'd come so far since she'd flown out to visit him, but there was no way he was going to jinx it in any way. And thinking those thoughts would lead to him doing something stupid, like voicing something out loud and eventually freaking her out again.

So he just stepped forward slightly, right into her personal space, and he made himself be content with how easily she welcomed him there, and the smile on her beautiful face. "Okay," he said simply, before lowering his lips to hers.

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Kate was settled in the suite in Denver by 3:00 that afternoon, after a pretty uneventful flight. During the much-shorter flight, she marveled at how different this flight was compared to the other one just a few days earlier. Gone was the sense of shock that had accompanied her on that flight, after she'd finally surmised that she'd been subtly played and even conned by the scheming of Martha and Alexis. Granted, their cause was noble and certainly did have a good outcome, but she had no idea then of how right they were.

They knew how much she missed Rick, how much she needed to see him, even if she couldn't see it herself right then. She really owed them for making her get on that plane. And really, she almost wondered why she didn't do it sooner. Of course she couldn't go because of the case, but a the main part of her resistance was just in her mind, case or no case, and really only had to do with external forces, not how she, herself, felt about their relationship.

When she'd told Ryan, she almost felt giddy with the prospect of not having to keep a secret any longer. Whereas a few months ago, the thought of him knowing about their relationship would have given her a conniption, now it was just merely commonplace; somehow normal that their close friends would know about their relationship. And it was really that simple. And that's when it hit her like a ton of bricks; most of the pressure that she'd felt about their relationship had just been created by her, in moving forward over the specter of Rick's past and reputation, or in keeping the secret from everyone except for their close family members. And once she realized it, she couldn't stop thinking about it.

And with her realizing that, it forced her to confront the other elephant in the room: her feelings for Rick.

She ...

He was special to her.

She really ...

He grounded her, he made her laugh and he took care of her. She didn't really feel 'right' unless he was around.

She ...

Oh, hell.

She _loved _him, she thought with a shudder.

Oh, God. She needed to take a deep breath. Or a couple. Or maybe she just needed an oxygen tent.

She wasn't ready for this. Or maybe she was. Or maybe it was the pain pills, except she hadn't taken a pain pill recently. Or maybe she couldn't deny it anymore. Or maybe she was going crazy.

How could she love Castle? Oh, God. She detested him when he first started shadowing her. So how could she actually be in love with him now? How?

She tried to breathe deeply. Is this how love felt? Wasn't it supposed to be peaceful, serene? So why did she feel like she might throw up?

But still, she knew she couldn't go back. She'd realized something, and she knew it was true, no matter how much it terrified her.

She loved Castle. Not just lust, although there was plenty of that too. She really loved the guy. Oh, Lord.

She could admit it to herself now, even though acknowledging that even in her own mind made her supremely nervous. But what about him? She was going to see him in just a little while, and how should she go about telling him, 'Oh, by the way, I love you."? What would he say? Would he think she was nuts? Would he run the other way? Or would he...maybe ...

Hopefully. But she almost didn't want to find out.

Or maybe she shouldn't say anything. Maybe she should just keep it buried a while longer.

And how did he feel about her? Really? Oh, she knew that he wanted her ... there was certainly no problem in that respect. And he was happy that she flew out to see him, she knew that now. Sometimes he looked at her with such ... awe, and it had always made her uncomfortable, like he was expecting more, wanting more. And that scared her, hence their agreement to go slowly. But now that she was on board with everything, and she was the one who wanted more, he seemed so unsure, and it almost seemed like he was now holding back. Like that time the day before when he found her when she was eating her ice cream cone; she thought he was starting to say something, something important, but then he got that horrible look on his face like he'd made the biggest verbal gaffe in the universe. And he covered. Right after that, she would've bet money that he was going to say something big, but then he never said anything more, not even at their most passionate moments. So maybe she was just wrong, really wrong.

She looked around the suite, and then at the clock. She knew the plan, and Rick's flight should have arrived a short time ago. By the time he got through baggage claim and got to his 'real' room, it would probably be another hour or so. And then it was just a matter of ditching Paula, and finding her.

And then she had to decide if she should tell him about her feelings now, and lay it all out there in her newfound burst of enlightenment and honesty, or if she should hold it in while she tried to figure out his feelings. So she relaxed back against the pillows on the bed and tried to figure out the best plan while she waited for Rick to find her.

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**_Thanks for reading! I hope it meshed well with all of the other chapters._**


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